Past Changes
by The Big Lazy Dragon
Summary: On a cold December night in 1194 AD, Demona's life takes a startling turn, and history as we know it is changed forever.
1. Chapter One: Demona

Past Changes

Demona

Written by Donald E. Fleming II

Story concept by Donald E. Fleming II

Disclaimer: All Gargoyles characters are the property of Disney and Buena Vista Studios and are being used without their consent or permission. Other Gargoyle characters are the property of The Gargoyle Saga (TGS) writing staff and also are being used without their permission. I am receiving no reward for this story other than the satisfaction of being able to share it with others as it is intended solely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of Gargoyle fandom everywhere.

Castle Wyvern, Scotland 

_1194 AD, Late December_

Demona landed on the topmost turret of the castle and approached the frozen form of Goliath. She ran her hand over his stone form to brush away the snow that covered the top of his head.

"Hello, my love," she said softly. "I'm sorry that I haven't visited in such a long time. But I swear that when I find a way to break this spell, we shall spend eternity together."

The stone visage of Goliath did not respond and she felt fresh tears begin to well up in her eyes. She quickly brushed them away as she continued.

"You'll see, we'll start anew. Start a new clan, raise a new rookery to replace the one that was stolen." She sighed then, thinking back to the day she had laid their egg in the now empty rookery. The coloring had promised a daughter...

"Step away from him," came a challenge.

Demona spun, mentally kicking herself for not hearing the crunch of footsteps on the fresh snow, and prepared to attack.

"Who are you to dare…" she started, but paused when she caught sight of the intruder.

He was human, she could see that, but he was dressed in the oddest armor she had ever seen. There was a symbol of a gargoyle emblazoned on his chest, and his helmet…

The faceplate on his helmet resembled Goliath's face!

He had drawn his sword as she took all this in and took another step towards her. "I said step away from him," he repeated. "Now before I…"

Now he paused as she took a step towards the parapet to glide off into the night. She didn't want to abandon the clan the mercy of this human, even though something inside of her said that he had no intention of harming them, but that little voice inside her had been wrong about humans before. She took another step, this time towards the human.

"It canna be!" he gasped. "Goliath's angel, after all these years!"

She had braced for the attack, but his words caught her by surprise. "Who are you?" she growled.

The human flipped up the faceplate and looked at her with warm eyes that were wide with recognition. "I'm Tom," he said as he sheathed his sword.

Demona looked at him in disbelief. She had encountered several 'Tom's' in the two centuries after the fall of Wyvern, but there was one that stood out in her mind. A little sandy blond-haired boy, who couldn't have been more than ten years of age, who had been at Castle Wyvern the night before Hakon and his Vikings destroyed the clan. The child had approached the Trio, the three gargoyles who always seemed to be in each other's company and, subsequently, usually got into trouble together, and had talked to them. Not in a threatening manner, as was usual of many of the humans who had taken refuge in the castle, but with curiosity and something that could have burgeoned into friendship. His mother had spoiled that moment, pulling him away and had hit the brick-red gargoyle with a stick. She would have torn them to pieces if not for Goliath's insistence of keeping peace with the humans. He had sent the Trio to the rookery as punishment before departing to chase down Hakon and his Vikings, ignoring her own suggestion that he take the entire clan with him. That had been their undoing. Hakon attacked the next morning, and seeing them approaching, she took refuge in one of the sea caves below the castle. When she had returned, she found the castle empty of humans and the clan destroyed. She fled after Goliath returned and found what he thought to be her broken form. She decided to return later, to surprise Goliath, so that they would be together again, but the surprise was hers when she discovered Goliath and the others frozen in stone _at night. _She remembered the anger she felt as, that night after she had returned, she had seen the boy and his mother leave the castle, along with Princess Katherine and the surviving humans, and they had taken the rookery eggs with them.

_But that was two centuries ago,_ she thought. _This couldn't be…_

Tom took off his helmet, and Demona gasped at the sight of his blond hair.

"You can't be Tom," she challenged, quickly mastering her shock. "That was…"

"Two hundred years ago, I know," he finished. "I could say the same of you, Night Angel." He used the affectation Goliath had used for her and she scowled at him.

"Do not call me that," she hissed. "That is not my name, not any more." She did relax a bit, though. Only someone from Wyvern would have known that bit of information. If he had called her by the name she went by now, she probably would have gutted him right there on the spot, because then he would have either been one of Macbeth's men or worse still, one of the Hunters.

"What do you go by now?" he asked.

"First tell me how is it you are here," she challenged, crossing her arms. "And not long since dead and buried."

"I have been living on Avalon," Tom replied. "Along with the Magus, Princess Katherine and the eggs."

"What!" Demona gasped.

"'Tis true," he continued. "The clan's eggs survived. All thirty-six of them."

Demona felt her legs collapse under her. _They live,_ she thought. _My clan's eggs live!_

She could feel herself being gently lifted to her feet. Tom had rushed to her side and was helping her back up.

"But how?" she whispered, surprising herself by not pushing him away. "I...I don't understand..."

Tom looked at Goliath's frozen form. "It doesn't look as though the castle will be rising above the clouds tonight," he said. "If ye'd like, I'll tell you all about it on the way back to Avalon."

Demona was suspicious, but more than that, she was intrigued, which overcame the suspicion. _The eggs alive,_ she thought. She had to find out if it was true. If this human Tom were lying to her, she would kill him in short order.

But if he was telling the truth…

_Avalon_

Katherine watched as the skiff pulled up to the shore. Tom had been gone only a few moments, not long enough to justify going back to Oberon's abandoned castle and then trekking back to greet him, but she knew that just those few moments meant hours had passed in the outside world.

"Guardian's back," one of the gargoyles with her shouted excitedly. Katherine smiled at the small, lavender female. Angela and Gabriel, the other gargoyle with her, had begged to come with her this night, and Katherine had given in. After all, she didn't know how long Tom would be gone. His last journey through the mists took several hours, and he had returned with a three days growth of beard after leaving clean-shaven.

"There's someone with him," Gabriel said. "Could it be Goliath? Is he awake already?"

Katherine watched as Tom landed the skiff and helped his passenger out of the craft.

"Nay, I dinna think so," she said. The form was too slight to be Goliath's, and she could see that the hair was the wrong color. It almost looked like…

"Princess," Tom called out. "We have a guest."

Katherine's jaw dropped when she saw who it was.

Demona took a step forward, her eyes beginning to glow red when she caught sight of Katherine, the wretched woman who had stolen her clan's eggs away, but the sight of the two gargoyle hatchlings caused her to pause. They were tugging on Katherine's arms to draw her closer, but eventually they let go and bolted towards her.

She looked down at the two. They were both hatchlings, either one of them couldn't have been more than ten years old. They looked up at her with eyes wide in wonder. Aside from their clanmates, neither one had seen another gargoyle in their lives, and certainly not a full-grown adult female. The young male grabbed her around the leg and glared at his rookery sister. "She's mine," he stated. "I saw her first!"

"Did not," Angela shot back. She latched onto Demona's hand and tried to pull her away from Gabriel.

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

Demona looked at Tom, who was amused by the odd tug-of-war before lifting her leg and shaking the tiny gargoyle loose.

"Off!" she snapped.

Gabriel landed on his rear and looked on as Demona grabbed Angela and picked her up to look at the small female.

"And you…" Demona then turned and dropped her next to her rookery brother. "Sit! Both of you. Or you'll be sent to the rookery!"

"But we don't have…" Gabriel started, but then received a quick jab in the ribs by his sister. He rubbed his side as he glared at her.

Demona couldn't help but smile inwardly at their antics. _Hatchlings,_ she though. _They weren't eggs, they were hatchlings._ Now she was wondering if she should have stayed where she was, thinking back to the mischief the Trio and their rookery siblings had caused. She looked at Tom and then Princess Katherine and felt her opinion of the two humans go up several points. _It took an entire clan of gargoyles to handle a full rookery, and here were three humans trying to deal with thirty-six hatchlings._

Suddenly, she didn't feel anger towards the Princess anymore; she felt sympathy, not to mention a little bit of respect.

Katherine took a few steps towards Demona as she realized that the azure gargoyle was smiling at her.

"It canna be!" she said in shock. "We thought ye destroyed with the rest."

Now her anger returned and she took a quick series of steps towards the princess.

"Is that why you took the clan's eggs?" Demona said low. "Because you thought no one would come looking for them?"

"Nay, that wasna what happened," Katherine said. "Goliath asked us to care for the wee bairns."

"Was that before or after you trapped him in stone?"

"Demona!" Tom said, grabbing her by the shoulder, intending to pull her away. Demona shook off his hand and grabbed Katherine by the arm, her talons digging into the princess' skin through the cloth of her dress.

"Let her go!" she heard the female hatchling shout just before she felt the two grab her in an effort to tackle her. She almost snarled at them, but stopped herself. It was obvious that they cared for the princess, and her actions had upset them. She quickly let go of the princess.

"Gabriel, Angela, let her go," Katherine commanded, rubbing her arm.

"But she was hurting you," Angela said. She was not about to let this strange gargoyle hurt her beloved princess.

Katherine looked at Demona. "She was angry, and I am afraid that she has good reason to be."

"And I feel I'm also due an explanation," Demona added.

"And ye shall have one," Katherine said as she looked at the gargoyle. "And I'm certain she has some things to tell us as well."

Angela let go of Demona's leg and Gabriel dropped as he released his grip on Demona's waist. "Of course, princess." She looked at the two hatchlings. "Where are the others? Tom said that you brought all the eggs to Avalon. Surely these are not the only two that hatched."

"Nay, they are all hatched," Katherine said. "The rest are at Oberon's castle."

"Oberon!" Demona said, shocked. "You left them alone with the Fae!"

"Nay," Tom said, reassuring her. "Oberon and his get have not been in Avalon for quite some time. Indeed, the island was deserted when we arrived."

Katherine looked at the horizon and realized that the sun would be up soon. "Demona," she said. When the gargoyle looked at her, she continued. "That is what Tom called you, isn't it. The sun will be up soon. Perhaps this is a discussion that can wait until tonight."

"Of course," Demona agreed. She looked at the brightening sky. "Is it far to the castle?"

"Not too far," Tom said. "But I doubt that we'd be able to get there before sun-up if we walked."

"She can take us there," Angela said, looking up at Demona.

"Could ye take them?" Katherine asked. "I'd rather not leave them out in the open like this."

Demona looked at the two hatchlings. She could carry both of them with no trouble.

"Of course, princess," she said. "As long as they show me the way."

"I'll show her the way," Gabriel said.

"Will not!" Angela countered. "You'll just get her lost."

"Will not!" Gabriel protested.

"Will too!" Angela shot back.

"If the two of ye don't stop," Katherine snapped. "I'll have Tom build that rookery so Demona **can** send ye there!"

That quickly brought the argument to a stop and Demona voiced a quiet "Thank you" to her. They weren't too sure what being sent to the rookery meant, only that it was some form of punishment, and that was something they wanted to avoid.

Demona lead the two hatchlings to a high ledge where she could launch herself and leapt into the air, holding onto the two gargoyles. Katherine watched as Angela pointed towards the castle and Demona followed her directions. When she and the two hatchlings were away, Katherine turned to Tom. "Where did you find her?" she wondered. "And how? Goliath thought…"

"We all did, princess," Tom said, taking her hand. "She told me some of what happened to her since that night, but I suspect that there are some things she held back. Perhaps, when she sees the rest of the eggs safe and well, she'll tell us the rest."

"But Tom, she looks the same. After all these years, I canna believe that she would not have changed."

"She didn't tell me how," Tom said. "But I hope she'll trust us enough to tell us."

The Magus watched in wonder as Demona landed in the castle courtyard and set Angela and Gabriel on their feet. The other hatchlings immediately swarmed around her, throwing questions at her so rapidly that she had little time to breathe.

"How are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Where did you come from?

"Where is your clan?"

"Has Goliath waken up?"

"Are you part of his clan?"

Demona was trying to answer them all when the sun caught her in mid-sentence.

The Magus walked up and examined her frozen form as closely as he could with all the hatchlings clustered around her like a wall. _Was it she?_ he wondered. _The Archmage's former apprentice?_ He looked towards the gate as Princess Katherine and Tom walked into the courtyard. He could see them holding hands and sighed miserably, as he walked towards them to find out about the new arrival.

Demona sat in the main hall of the castle, relating her story about her years of hiding after the fall of Castle Wyvern, her alliance with Macbeth, the loss of her second clan to the Hunter and her dealings with the Weird Sisters. The Guardian snorted in disgust at the mention of the Sisters. They had tried to prevent them from reaching Avalon and it was only the Magus' quick thinking that saved them, though he had to reluctantly give up the Grimorium Arcanorum because he would be unable to bring it to Avalon.

After Demona had awakened that night, Katherine had told her what had happened following the departure from Wyvern. Demona had heard about Constantine's grab for power, but decided not to interfere in human problems. Had she known that Katherine had taken the eggs to King Kenneth's castle for safety, only to have Constantine threaten them to force the princess to marry him, Demona would have forgone her years in hiding and gutted the upstart herself.

Demona had let go of her anger towards the three humans. They had risked and lost much in order to protect the eggs. Tom had lost his mother, who had returned with Katherine's cousin Finella to the outside world in order to hide the Grimorium from Constantine. The Magus had lost his powers when he was forced to surrender the Grimoram. And Katherine. Katherine had lost her uncle.

But what they had gained was priceless. They had the love of her clan's children, and now they had gained her respect. She looked at the hatchlings playing around her. The love the princess had given to the eggs had more than made up for her earlier prejudices.

Katherine approached the azure gargoyle and knelt down in front of her. "Demona," she said. "I know that words canna make up for the wrongs I've done to you and Goliath, but I'm hoping that you can find it in your heart to forgive what was."

Demona took Katherine's hands and looked into her eyes. "I do not know if I can for what was said and done to both myself and Goliath, but for the sake of these young ones, I will try."

_Avalon_

_Fourteen years later (Avalon Time)_

"Can't catch me," the lavender female taunted as she darted back and forth across the sky.

"Yes I can, Angela" Ophelia said.

Demona smiled as she watched the two juvenile gargoyles race across the sky in a game of aerial tag. Their rookery mates were cheering Ophelia on; so far the only one that had not been tagged had been Angela.

Angela dived into a plunge that took her out over the lake. She checked her dive almost at the last second, swooping up in a tight climb that Ophelia unfortunately couldn't duplicate. There was a loud splash as she went into the water.

There was a great deal of hooting and hollering as Angela landed on the shore triumphantly. Ophelia came up sputtering and charged her after she gained the shore, but Angela deftly jumped out of the way. She bowled right into Demona.

"Easy, young one," the elder gargoyle said. "I'm not part of this game."

Ophelia paled as she realized she was dripping water on Demona. "I…I am sorry, Demona," she stammered as she backed away. "I didn't mean…"

"It's all right," she said. "But you should learn to control your temper," she added. "In battle, that could cost you your life."

"I shall try," Ophelia said.

As the young female turned to congratulate Angela on a fine win, Demona could sense Princess Katherine walk over to her.

"She did well," Katherine said.

"Are you referring to Ophelia or Angela, Princess?"

"Angela, of course," the princess said. "She bested all the others."

"But she takes too many risks," Demona said. "Look."

Katherine looked and saw Angela rubbing her right shoulder. She had apparently strained a muscle in the winning maneuver.

"Ach, she does at that," Katherine admitted. "She becomes more and more like her mother each day."

"What?" Demona said in shock.

Katherine looked at her in surprise. "Surely ye have eyes, Demona. Can ye not see the resemblance? After all, she does have Goliath's color."

Demona looked at Angela. _Her daughter,_ she thought. _The coloring of her egg had promised a daughter…_

"All the more reason not to make her my second," Demona said. In the years since her arrival, Demona had taken on more of the responsibility of raising and teaching the gargoyle hatchlings, which had helped to ease the burden of the three humans, and now they regarded her as their leader as well. All of this sat well with Guardian Tom, who watched over the clan during the day.

"Then who would you choose?" Tom asked as he approached. He had his eye on Angela as second, but he had to agree with Demona's assessment of her own daughter, even though this would be the first she had heard about it.

"Gabriel," she said. "He's intelligent, quick, strong…" She hesitated as the object of her discussion did a quick turn in front of his rookery kin and tripped unceremoniously over his own tail. "But it's still much too early to be choosing a second," she continued. "They are still juveniles, and they need to mature before any of them can handle the responsibility of leading the clan."

The Magus was feeling more and more useless each day. He watched from the tower as Angela bested Ophelia in aerial tag, and then noted the exchange between Tom, the princess and Demona.

Demona...How many years has it been since he first lay eyes on her? Most of his life actually, since that day long ago when he had arrived at the castle with his mother. He had been terrified of the gargoyles, but her in particular. When the Archmage had taken him under his wing and began to teach him magic, he had been eager, since he saw it as a way to protect himself from them...and her. _What was it he saw in her that had frightened him so? _he wondered.

She no longer frightened him; quite the contrary, he thought. Now he had a chance to make up for the mistake he had made that resulted in her lover and surviving clan members becoming trapped in their stone sleep for what could be an eternity. Now he had a chance to extend his powers in hopes of reviving them.

Unfortunately, while Demona seemed to have made her peace with Katherine and Tom, she had yet to fully forgive him. He couldn't blame her; he had yet to forgive himself. It had been his anger at the thought of losing the princess to the butcher Hakon that caused him to cast the spell that trapped Goliath's clan in stone. He had almost cast the spell out of anger again when Goliath returned to find his friends caught in their stone sleep, but the princess' presence stayed his hand. Eventually, he had cast it, not out of anger, but at Goliath's own request. He wondered what would have happened had Goliath remained as he was, instead of submitting to the sleep spell.

_No_ _sense in dwelling on it now,_ he thought. Even if Demona hadn't been immortal when Tom found her, he no longer had the Grimorium, so he couldn't cast the spell on her even if she wanted him to.

"Magus," he heard Demona say as she approached the tower, with Angela in tow.

"Yes, Demona," he replied.

"Angela has pulled a muscle in her shoulder," she said, then added, "Again."

"I am fine, Demona," Angela said.

"And how fine would you be if you were to finally dislocate that wing and find yourself spinning helplessly out of control," she said.

The Magus stood behind Angela and gently probed at the spot where wing met shoulder. Angela winced.

"Just as I thought," Demona said. "You will stay grounded for the next three days until that joint heals properly."

"But, Demona..." Angela protested.

"Not another word," she said. "Now off with you. Down to the training room. I will be there shortly." When Angela started towards the cornice, Demona grabbed her by the arm. "No," she said. "By the stairs."

Angela pouted but she complied. It wouldn't do to argue with the clan leader, especially if the rumors among her sisters were true that Demona was considering a second.

When Angela was safely out of earshot, Demona turned her attention to the Magus.

"I need to ask you something," she said.

"Of course," the Magus said.

"I want you to train her."

"What?" he said.

"Train her," Demona said. "Teach her magic."

"Demona, even if I could, I'm not sure how much I can teach her. She has to have the gift."

"Does she?" she asked.

"I..." he said, hesitantly. "I don't know. I don't know if any of the gargoyles has the gift. Aside from you."

"She does," Demona said. "Because her mother does as well."

"Her mother did, you..." the Magus started before he realized what Demona was implying. "You mean that Angela is..."

"My daughter," Demona said. "I should have seen it long ago," she continued. She looked at the Magus. "So far, only the princess, Tom and now you know about it. I don't want Angela to find out. Not yet. But I need her to be trained to use her gift. I suspect that the Weird Sisters are far from finished with me."

"What do you mean?" the Magus said.

"I know that the Sisters did not grant Macbeth and myself immortality on some whim," Demona said. "They are up to something and I may need magical help to fight them."

"It will be difficult," he said. "I no longer have the Grimorium and my own magic is of little use without it."

"You belittle yourself, Magus," she said. "You need to depend more on your own natural abilities and less on talismans. For myself, I learned to hone my abilities quite well during the last two centuries." She was tempted to show him just what she was capable of, but resisted the urge, unsure of what would happen if she were to cast a mortal spell in the Avalonian environment.

"Be that as it may, Demona," he said. "But you were always keener at the Arts than I ever was. Even the Archmage knew that."

"The Archmage was a fool," Demona said. "And a bully. You have no idea how much I hated him."  
"But there is still the fact that you are far better at the Arts than I ever was," the Magus said. "It is you who should teach Angela, not I."

"I cannot," Demona said. "I have far too many responsibilities. I have thirty-six hatchlings that need to be trained to defend themselves, and I cannot spare the time to teach Angela how to utilize her gifts."

"But I..." the Magus started.

"Magus, please," Demona said. "Don't make me beg. I hate doing it." She paused, then placed her hand on his shoulder. "Magus, I am asking this as a friend. Angela needs to learn how to hone her abilities, and I cannot think of anyone better suited to the task. I know that you've felt a little...useless...of late..."

The Magus' head shot up, and he glared at Demona as he knocked her hand away. "I have not..." he protested.

"Please, Magus," she said. "I can see it in your eyes. You may be able to fool Katherine and Tom, but not me."

The Magus turned away from her, sighing. "I am useless," he said finally.

"Nonsense," Demona said quickly. "You are still the Magus, the apprentice of the Archmage, and you still have the knowledge that enabled you to deliver Katherine and the clan's eggs from that villain Constantine. That makes you valuable."

"But I still needed the Grimorium for that," he said. "And without it..."

Demona silenced him by placing her finger against his lips. "Magus, you need to put the Grimorium out of your mind. There is no way of knowing where Finella and Mary took it when you parted company, so it is best forgotten for now." She removed her finger and set her hand on his shoulder. "I am asking you again. Will you train Angela in the use of her powers?"

"I...I will try," he said. "But I make no promises as to how well I will be able to train her."

Demona smiled. "But you will try," she said. "That is all I'm asking of you right now."

"Yes," he said. "I will."

"You want...to teach 'me'...magic?" Angela gasped. She had been summoned to the Magus' tower for something important, but she never imagined that it would be this!

"Yes," the Magus said. "Demona has learned that you have a talent for the Arts, and she asked me to train you in utilizing your gift."

"But...how?" Angela asked. "I mean...I never..."

"It's dormant at the moment," Demona said. "But believe me, you do have the gift."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked.

"Very sure," Demona said. "It is rare in gargoyles, but when it does exist, it tended to run from parent to child."

"So, one of the other gargoyles at the castle had the gift?" Angela asked.

Demona looked at the Magus, a look of uncertainty on her face. Magus caught the hint of worry in her eyes. "There was one," he said. "She was exceptionally bright and clever." He paused as he considered Demona. "But I never got to see her realize her potential. We...weren't on very good terms then."

"I'm sorry," Angela said. "I wish I'd had a chance to know her."

"As do I, young one," Demona said.

"Can you tell me what she was like?" Angela asked.

Demona almost started at Angela's request. _What do I tell her? _she thought. _I can't tell her the truth, not yet at least. _"Perhaps later," she said, hoping to forestall the conversation for as long as possible. "After you've finished your studies."

"But..." Angela started.

"No buts," Demona said. "If you are to learn how to utilize magic properly, then you need to study."

"But, I was thinking that if you could teach me..."

"No," Demona said. "The Magus is the best teacher I can think of at the moment. He will teach you better than I ever could." She placed her hand on Angela's shoulder and sat the young gargoyle down on the wooden bench. "I shall return later to check on your progress." She turned to consider the Magus. "If I might have a moment of your time, Magus," she said.

"Of course," he said. He went over to the bookshelf and took down one of the books he had managed to bring with him to Avalon. It wasn't a book of magic; he would never have been allowed to bring it in if it were. It was merely a storybook, something for her to begin her reading lessons with. "Begin reading this," he said, setting the book in front of her. "I shall return shortly."

"Of course, Magus," she said. The Magus waited until she began reading before following Demona out.

After he closed the door, Demona turned towards the Magus. "I want to thank you again for agreeing to do this," she said.

"It is my pleasure," the Magus said. "Although, I am still unsure as to how well..."

"Magus," Demona sighed. "Please, don't start doubting yourself again. You can train her, I know you can. If necessary, I will help when I can, but this is primarily your responsibility. Don't let me down."

"I'll try not to, Demona," he said.

"Good," she said. "Now, your student awaits. I will check in on you in a little while. There are other matters that need my attention."

"Very well," the Magus said. He waited until Demona started up the stairs towards the tower roof before sighing and going into his workshop to check on Angela's progress.

Demona paused as she spotted Tom on the roof, looking out over the castle and its surroundings.

"Evening, Demona," he said, smiling. "How goes Angela's studies?" When she looked at him with a hint of confusion, he continued. "I had heard that ye intend to train her in the use of the Arts."

"She will make a fine sorceress one day," Demona said. "But I am surprised that you heard about it so quickly. I had only just discussed it with the Magus not more than a few hours ago."

"It is a small castle," Tom said. "Word travels fast around here." He paused. "In truth, 'twas Gabriel who told me your plans. He overheard you discussing it with the Magus."

Demona sighed. "He should not have been eavesdropping," she said.

"The lad said 'twas unintentional," Tom said. "He was following the two of ye back to the castle, and he saw ye and the Magus talking."

"I'm going to have to talk to him about that," Demona said. "He should have not listened in on our private conversation."

"Demona," Tom said. "Ye need to remember that there are very few secrets here."

"Except those that I myself choose to keep, Guardian," she said. "I haven't told you all that has happened to me over the past two centuries. There are...things...I did...those first few years after the destruction of Wyvern..."

"No one blames ye for doing what you could to survive, Demona..."

"Really?" Demona said. "Do you honestly believe that?" She paused as she turned to look out towards the horizon. Dawn was a little over an hour away. Her mind drifted back several centuries, recalling all that she had done. "I look back on what I did and even I...cringe at the thought of it." She looked back at Tom. "Am I really worthy of anyone's forgiveness? Can you answer me that, Guardian?"

"I think yuir letting your emotions get the better of you, Demona," Tom said. "Ye've changed a great deal in the time ye've been here. Dinna forget that I knew ye back when the castle was still standing."

"You were but a child then, Tom," she said. "Still clutching at your mother's apron-strings."

"True," Tom said, a little quickly, as if to cover a mistake. Demona didn't seem to notice. "But I saw enough of you to realize what a fearsome beast you were back then. Now..." He paused, then touched her shoulder. "Yuir not quite so 'fearsome'."

"Do not let appearances deceive you, Guardian," she said. "I may have changed somewhat from who I was back then, but I am still Demona. I doubt anyone in the outside world would be willing to put aside what I've done and give me a second chance."

"Are ye sure about that?" he asked. "There is no one?"

"Any I might have had a chance with have long since turned to dust," Demona said. "The only ones that are left are the Hunters, and they won't rest until I and all my kind are exterminated." She paused as she sighed. "Guardian, it is getting late. The sun will be up soon, and I need to check on Angela's progress." She reached out and touched his arm. "But still, I do want to thank you for what you said. You are a good friend."

"Then, as a friend," Tom said. "You might want to consider this. The Magus is right about the Grimorium. It does need to be found."

"Guardian..." Demona started, but Tom quickly silenced her.

"Constantine is dead," he said. "And that means Katherine is no longer in any danger from him. Now would be the best time to go looking for it."

"Where?" Demona asked. "The Grimorium could be anywhere. It would take an eternity..."

"But isn't that what you have?" Tom asked. "You are an immortal, Demona. And while it may take a few centuries to locate the book, at least ye have a chance of finding it in that space of time."

"And what of the hatchlings?" she asked. "I can't just leave them..."

"I have done a fairly good job of watching over them already," Tom said. "Ye do not have to worry about their welfare while Katherine and I are around."

"And the Magus," Demona said.

"Of course," Tom said. "But I think it best if the Magus were to go with ye. The two of you together would have the best chance of locating the Grimorium and using it to free Goliath and the others."

"I'll have to think about it," she said. She turned and saw the first hints of the new dawn. "I must be going," she said. "I will speak to you later this evening." She turned and headed down the staircase.

"I'm certain you will, my dear," Tom said, smiling as he watched her leave. He clutched at his chest and then disappeared in a ball of fire.

"Are ye sure about this?" Katherine asked.

"Yes," Demona said. "If we are to break the spell that binds Goliath and the others, we need the Grimorium."

"But must the two of ye go?" she asked, looking to the Magus.

"Princess, I am of little use here without the Grimorium," he said. "Once I have restored my powers and freed Goliath, I'll return with word."

Katherine's shoulders drooped. "Very well," she said. "But, please be careful. I don't want to lose either of ye."

Demona took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, princess. I'll take good care of him. I swear to you."

The mists parted, and they found themselves at the base of the cliff below Castle Wyvern. Demona looked up towards the castle as Tom handed the Magus the pack Katherine had prepared for them.

"I want to have one more moment alone with Goliath," she said, digging her talons into the rock wall. "I'll meet you up there." She turned and began climbing upwards towards the castle.

"It seems so strange to return here after all this time," the Magus said. "Has the castle changed much?"

"A couple of walls had collapsed the last time I was here," Tom said. "But it's still sound. I suspect that there may still be a few items left in the kitchen the two of ye could use."

"I'm more concerned with what I can find in my own workroom," the Magus said. "I was not able to take much with me when we fled the castle."

"Then we'd better get a move on," Tom said. He looked up and had one last fleeting glimpse of Demona as she neared the castle. "Demona will be wondering what happened to us if we take too long." He secured the skiff and headed up the trail to the castle.

He watched her as she approached the gargoyle. There was something different about her, something in the way she walked, but he brushed that aside. All he saw now was the creature who had betrayed him, who had cost him his kingdom, his son, his wife. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as she approached her love.

"I'm back, Goliath," she said. "And I have wonderful news. Our children have survived. All of them."

_Their children?_ he thought.

"I have seen them," she continued. "They are safe, including our daughter. And once we find a way to break this curse, we can be reunited with them all."

"Aye," the Watcher said. "Reunited in death."

Demona spun and caught sight of him. "Macbeth!"

Macbeth stepped into sight and drew his sword. "I was wondering if ye'd return here."

"What do you want?" she hissed.

"I think that would be obvious, Demona," he said. "I have hunted you for quite some time. I want an end to this."

"I have no time for this," Demona said. "And I suggest you leave. I am not here alone."

"Really," he said. "I had thought the Hunters succeeded in killing off the last of the gargoyles in this land. Save for these six." He stepped closer to Goliath's frozen form and placed the point of his sword to the gargoyle's neck.

Demona's eyes went wide. "No, please!" she cried out.

Macbeth withdrew the sword. "Please?" he said. "That's a word I've not thought you capable of, Demona." He looked at her and saw the anguish in her eyes.

"I've changed," she said. "Please, Macbeth. I don't want to fight you. If you'd just forgive me..."

"Forgive you?" Macbeth snapped. "You cost me my life, Demona. My son, my kingdom. My wife! You betrayed me, Demona! And you dare beg forgiveness now?"

Demona flinched at his words. "Yes," she said quietly.

Macbeth growled at her and raised his sword. "I don't think so," he said and swung at her.

Demona dodged and the sword struck the cornice behind her. She had to draw him away from Goliath. She took a quick look around as Macbeth turned and advanced on her. _Where are you, Guardian? _she thought.

Tom's ears perked at the sound of sword hitting stone.

"Magus, listen," he said. He heard the sound repeated. Then he heard Demona snarl in anger.

"Demona!" the Magus said.

"She's in trouble," Tom added. He quickly drew his sword and rushed towards the sound of the battle.

Demona managed to get Macbeth sufficiently away from Goliath, leaping from the top of the tower to the battlement below, and then turned to face him. She jumped at him as he charged her and drove him to the ground, causing him to lose his grip on his sword. It spun away across the stones. Angered, he drove a fist into Demona's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. He 'whumphed' as he felt the pain of the blow hit him, but recovered quickly and shoved her away from him. As she staggered to her feet, he got to his and hit her again, this time striking her across the jaw. He quickly shook off the pain and kicked her in the stomach, driving her back to the ground. He retrieved his sword and turned to face her.

"Now we end this, Demona," he said.

Demona gasped as she saw him raise his sword over his head for the killing blow.

Suddenly, Tom slammed into him, knocking Macbeth aside. The former king went down hard and lost his sword over the edge as the Guardian stepped in front of her.

"Demona, go," he said. "I'll handle this blackguard."

Macbeth got to his feet and took in the newcomer. "This is of no concern to you," he said. "If yuir smart, ye'll let me finish her."

"I canna let ye do that, sirrah," Tom said. "Now declare yerself, and state yer business."

"I am Macbeth," he said. "And I have unfinished business with this traitorous creature!"

Tom looked slightly at Demona. "This is the Macbeth you spoke of?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, getting to her feet. "I'm afraid so."

"If she's told ye about me," Macbeth said, stepping forward. "Then I'll assume she's not told ye about how she betrayed me to Canmore and the English."

"She has," Tom said. "And she regrets doing it."

"HA!" Macbeth barked. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true, Macbeth," Demona said. "I know you don't believe that, but I do. If I could go back and change what happened…"

"But ye can't," Macbeth snarled. "I doubt ye would even if you could. Ye'd find some other way to betray me." He looked at Tom. "Just as I'm certain ye'll betray him, too."

"Watch what ye say, sirrah," Tom warned. "Demona is my friend."

"Just as she was mine for thirty-seven years," Macbeth said. "How long have ye known her?"

"I've known her since the fall of Castle Wyvern," Tom said.

"That's not possible," Macbeth said. "This castle fell more than four hundred years ago. Who are you?"

"I am Tom," he said. "Guardian of the Eggs."

"Gargoyle eggs, ye mean," Macbeth said.

"Aye," he returned.

"And where be these eggs?" Macbeth asked. "I know they are not here, not after all this time."

"They are safe on Avalon," Tom said. "Princess Katherine watches over them at the moment." He noted that Demona looked at him in shock, _probably upset over his revealing their secret,_ he thought. _It can't be helped._

"Princess…Katherine?" Macbeth started. "Malcolm's Katherine?"

"Aye," Tom said. "Prince Malcolm was Katherine's father. I was not yet born when he passed on, but…"

"Ye're lying!" Macbeth snarled. "Katherine has been dead and gone since that bastard Constantine overthrew her uncle King Kenneth!"

"Nay," Tom said. "Katherine escaped to Avalon to avoid marrying that usurper. I should know. The Magus and I accompanied her there."

"But that still doesn't explain…" Macbeth started.

"For each hour that passes on Avalon, a day goes by in the real world," Demona said. "Twenty two years have past on Avalon since the fall of Castle Wyvern, while over four hundred years have gone by for the rest of the world."

"And how long were ye there, Demona?" Macbeth asked.

"Fourteen years," she said. "Long enough to make a new start. I don't want to fight you, Macbeth. I have a new life, a new purpose. And I've learned that Goliath was right about humanity. If Princess Katherine could learn to accept us after her past bigotries, then perhaps there is hope for all of us."

"Nice sentiments, Demona," Macbeth said. "But that still doesn't forgive what ye did to me and mine."

Demona sighed. "If that's how you feel then," she said, stepping between Tom and Macbeth. She snatched Tom's sword out of his hand and gave it to Macbeth, setting the tip of the sword against her belly. "Finish me, then. If that is what you truly want."

"Demona!" Tom snapped, grabbing her by the arm. She quickly pushed him away and turned to face Macbeth.

"If you're going to do it, then do it," she said. She grabbed the blade and pressed the tip against herself. She felt it start to penetrate. _I'm sorry, Angela,_ she thought sadly, and a tear fell down her cheek.

Macbeth was stunned, not only by her willingness to end her own life, but also by the tear that ran down her cheek. He hesitated, and in that moment, a wave of sadness passed over him. He let go of the sword and it fell to the stones.

"I…I cannot," he said. He stepped away from her. "I don't know why, but I can't. Not like this."

Tom quickly rushed forward and scooped up his sword, holding it before him while pushing Demona behind him. "Stay behind me," he said.

"Do not worry," Macbeth said. "Ye have nothing more to fear from me." He stepped forward and looked at Demona. "I still canna forgive ye, Demona. Not now at least. But for now, I no longer hate you. Don't ask me why."

"At least that's a start," Demona said. "We've both lived with our anger for too long, Macbeth. Maybe in time, you'll learn to let go of yours as I have."

Macbeth looked at her, gazing into her eyes. The anger that had lit her eyes long ago was gone, replaced by something that he recognized but couldn't identify._ Compassion, perhaps,_ he thought.

"Perhaps, in time," he said. He stepped back and turned to leave.

"Macbeth," Tom called out. When the former Scot king turned, he found Tom extending his hand to him. "Would you do me the honor of returning to Avalon with me? I'm certain Katherine will be pleased to see you."

"Another time perhaps," he said. "Right now, I've had my fill of magical beings and mystic islands and such. I need time to think about where my life is headed. And I doubt I can do that on Avalon."

"At least consider the offer, milord," Tom said. "If ye do accept, get in touch with Demona or the Magus. They'll know how to reach Avalon's shores." Then he smiled. "At least ye wouldn't have to deal with those three harpies again."

Macbeth actually smiled at that thought. "I may consider it in that case," he said. He turned to look at Demona. "But I will still need some time."

"Of course," Demona said. Stepping away from Tom and the Magus, she did something that surprised all three. She hugged her former enemy. "Take care, Macbeth," she said as she released him. "Hopefully, we will see each other again soon."

Macbeth gulped soundly as she stepped back. "Perhaps," he said. He looked at Demona's companions for a moment, then slowly turned and walked across the battlement.

"Do we follow him?" Tom asked.

"No," Demona said. "He needs to work this out on his own. But for now, we have one less enemy to worry about." She turned towards the Magus. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he said, looking around. For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn he sensed something familiar. _Probably old ghosts,_ he thought.

"What is it, Magus?" Tom asked.

"Nothing, I guess," he said. "Just some...bad memories, that's all." He adjusted his hold on the pack. "I think it best if we were to leave this place at once. This place has far too many bad memories for my liking."

"Just a moment," Demona said. She walked back to the tower and scaled the wall. As soon as she reached the top, she walked back to Goliath's stone form.

"Do not worry, my love," she said, kissing Goliath's stone brow. "I will find a way to free you. And no one, not the Hunters, or the fae, or even those three screech owls are going to stop me." She stepped away from Goliath's frozen form and went to join her companions.

After she left, three forms appeared on the tower.

"Did you hear what she called us?" the dark-haired Selene said.

"Such impertinence," Phoebe said.

"She needs to be taught a lesson," the white-haired Luna said.

"And she will," another voice said. "But now is not the right time."

They turned and saw the Archmage appear out of the fires of the Phoenix Gate.

"And when will it be 'the right time'?" Luna asked.

"After Demona has secured for me the Phoenix Gate, the Eye of Odin and the Grimorium Arcanorum," the Archmage said. "And when she has done so, then you may see to her 'lesson'."

"Are you certain she will do as you ask?" Selene said. "I doubt very much that she will do so willingly."

The Archmage smiled. "Oh, of one thing I can be certain, it will be that she will do this task for me. For if she doesn't, something she will soon hold very dear to her heart will suffer the consequences."

The Weird Sisters looked at each other in confusion as the Archmage disappeared from sight.

Southern France 

_Five years later (1535 AD)_

The Magus looked over the text Michel had given them. It had been five years since their return from Avalon, and in that time, they had searched as far as they could without success. For a time, the two had become separated, Demona leaving one night several months ago to lead off one of the 'Hunters' she had spoken of, but when she didn't return, he grew worried. He went off in search of her and found her at the home of a physician, a healer named Michel de Nostradame. While the healer had been unable to help them in their search, he did give them some rare books he had recently acquired that could help them end the stone sleep of her clan. "I still don't see how we'll be able to accomplish this," he said. "It is going to require more power than either of us is capable of." He still lamented over the loss of the Grimorium. If he could find that again, then perhaps that coupled with the power of the Eye of Odin, they could finally free Goliath and the others.

"If there were some way to physically merge our powers," Demona said.

The Magus looked up. "Yes, that could work. But there is no way to fully combine magicks from two different races."

"Why not?" Demona said. "Merlin is of the Second and Third Races. If he can combine the magicks, why can't we?"

"It isn't possible," he said.

"I can't accept that," she said. "We can combine the two if both of us are willing."

"Willing to do what?" he said, then realized what she was hinting at. "We can't do that!"

"Why not, Magus?" Demona said. "You said it yourself. We need to combine the magicks of our two races. What better way than through a child?"

"It can't be done," he said. "I don't think it's even possible."

"Magus, you know as well as I do that nothing is impossible," she said. "And even if it is, it couldn't hurt to at least try."

"But…" he started to protest.

Demona stepped away from him. "You love Katherine," she said.

"Is it that obvious?"

"I've known since before the massacre," she said. "It was even more obvious after I came to Avalon. That's the real reason you want the Grimorium." She took a step towards him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "You feel that if you had the Grimorium, you could win her love."

The Magus couldn't meet her gaze. "Yes," he said. "I know that it can't happen, that she has picked Tom. But I still hope that I can."

"You're a hopeless romantic, Magus," she said. "You know that."

"I know," he said. "It comes from spending so much time on Avalon." He pulled away from her and sat down at the table. Demona waited for a moment before walking over to him and resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Magus," she said. "I would not ask this of anyone else. But you and I both know that we have limited options. If we hope to revive Goliath and the others, we need to be willing to take a few risks."

"Risks?" the Magus asked. "You are talking about the two of us trying to produce a child together. I don't know if it's even possible."

"We can at least try, Magus," Demona said. "As I said, I would not ask this of anyone else. Even if we were to fail, we would at least know that we made the attempt." She sighed. "And the truth is..."

The Magus turned to her and saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

"You haven't been with another male of your kind in centuries," he said.

"No, I have not," she said. She took her hand off his shoulder, knowing what he must be thinking about. "And since there are no other gargoyles in the area, I was hoping that...if it were possible..."

"Demona," he gasped. "Are you..."

"A gargoyle enters a breeding cycle once every twenty years, Magus," she said, turning from him. "I...haven't been keeping track of the passage of time as well as I probably should have, but my immortality means that I will have to endure this 'inconvenience' far longer than any gargoyle female in history."

"So this is not merely just an attempt to combine our powers," the Magus said. "You also seek to..."

"End a long cycle of loneliness," Demona said. She turned to face him again. "I have been without a male's company for a long time, Magus. If I could, I would go back to Avalon and seek some comfort there, but I cannot. They are but children, not mature enough to even begin to understand what would be asked of them." She took a step towards the Magus. "I am not trying to seduce you, Magus. I know that deep down in your heart, you will always love Katherine. But I need your help, Magus. I need...you."

The Magus gulped as she reached up and carefully removed her halter, then let it drop to the floor.

"Demona," he gasped. "I...I can't. I don't..."

"I understand," she said, realizing that this would be the Magus' first time with _any_ female, human or gargoyle. She carefully took him by the hands. "Don't worry," Demona said as she led him towards the bed. "I will try to be gentle."

_Try? _he thought.

To be continued in **Chapter Two: The Archmage**. 


	2. Chapter Two: The Archmage

Past Changes

The Archmage

Written by Donald E. Fleming II

Story Concept by Donald E. Fleming II

Disclaimer: All Gargoyles characters are the property of Disney and Buena Vista Studios and are being used without their consent or permission. Other Gargoyle characters are the property of The Gargoyle Saga (TGS) writing staff and also are being used without their permission. I am receiving no reward for this story other than the satisfaction of being able to share it with others as it is intended solely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of Gargoyle fandom everywhere.

_Previously..._

"The clan's eggs survived. All thirty-six of them."

Demona felt her legs collapse under her. _They live,_ she thought. _My clan's eggs live!_

She could feel herself being gently lifted to her feet. Tom had rushed to her side and was helping her back up.

"But how?" she whispered, surprising herself by not pushing him away. "I...I don't understand."

"There's someone with him," Gabriel said. "Could it be Goliath? Is he awake already?"

Katherine watched as Tom landed the skiff and helped his passenger out of the craft.

"Nay, I dinna think so," she said. The form was too slight to be Goliath's, and she could see that the hair was the wrong color. It almost looked like…

"Princess," Tom called out. "We have a guest."

Katherine's jaw dropped when she saw who it was.

"Ach, she does at that," Katherine admitted. "She becomes more and more like her mother each day."

"What?" Demona said in shock.

Katherine looked at her in surprise. "Surely ye have eyes, Demona. Can ye not see the resemblance? After all, she does have Goliath's color."

Demona looked at Angela. _Her daughter,_ she thought. _The coloring of her egg had promised a daughter…_

"Are you certain she will do as you ask?" Selene said. "I doubt very much that she will do so willingly."

The Archmage smiled. "Oh, of one thing I can be certain, it will be that she will do this task for me. For if she doesn't, something she will soon hold very dear to her heart will suffer the consequences."

"I am not trying to seduce you, Magus. I know that deep down in your heart, you will always love Katherine. But I need your help, Magus. I need...you."

The Magus gulped as she reached up and carefully removed her halter, then let it drop to the floor.

"Demona," he gasped. "I...I can't. I don't..."

"I understand," she said, realizing that this would be the Magus' first time with _any_ female, human or gargoyle. She carefully took him by the hands. "Don't worry," Demona said as she led him towards the bed. "I will try to be gentle."

_Try? _he thought.

_Past Changes: Demona_

**Past Changes: The Archmage**

_Southern France_

_1545 AD_

_Late Winter_

Demona sat with her hands clenched together, watching the egg that lay nestled in the straw. _Our egg, _she thought as her eyes looked up and focused on the human sitting opposite her in the makeshift rookery. For ten years, she and the Magus had been awaiting this day, waiting for the moment of truth when the egg the two of them had produced in a single moment of passion would hatch. She reached out cautiously and touched the mottled surface, sighing again as she felt it shift slightly as the tiny being inside moved.

"It will soon be time," she said to the Magus.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes," Demona said. "I was witness to the last clutch of eggs to hatch at Wyvern, before you came to the castle." She paused as she looked at the Magus. "Surely this happened when Angela and her rookery kin were hatched."

"It did," the Magus said. "But we were uncertain as to whether it was normal or not. We wondered if perhaps moving the eggs as often as we were forced to may have caused them distress..."

"You apparently did all right," she said. "And do not fear, this much movement is quite normal." Her hand caressed the exterior of the egg. "In a few moments..."

Her words were cut short as the shell of the egg cracked under her hand, causing her to jump back in surprise.

"Or perhaps right now," she said with a bit of a smile. She moved forward and placed her hands on the fractured shell. Using her talon, she scored the outside of the shell, creating several long grooves along the sides of the egg. The section closest to the initial crack separated and fell away, revealing the skin of the gargoyle hatchling.

"I will need your help with this," Demona said as she gently took hold of the edge of the break. The Magus took hold of the other side and together, the two of them pried the shell open, freeing the hatchling, who tumbled into the soft straw. Demona quickly picked up the hatchling and began picking the bits of straw away so she could get a better look at the infant.

The tiny hatchling's skin was light blue, just a shade lighter than her own azure-blue coloring, but the hair was white, like the Magus', and as the hatchling reached out to her, Demona counted five small fingers on each hand. She wondered if this was the result of their joining. _Would this happen if there were another human/gargoyle mating? _she wondered. She examined the hatchling more closely and discovered that the hatchling was a male.

"We have a son, Magus," she said, offering the hatchling to him.

The Magus took the child and looked at him carefully. "A…a son," he whispered. He looked at Demona. "He is beautiful," he said. "Just like his mother."

Demona's eyes went wide at the Magus' words. "I…I didn't know that you…that you thought me…"

"Demona," he said as he took a hesitant step towards her. "We have been friends for years, and we have lived together, for all intents and purposes, as man and wife ever since we returned to this world. It should come as no surprise that I should…"

Demona smiled at him. "And to think, at one time you once referred to me and my kind as 'unnatural', if memory serves me correctly."

"I was a different person back then, Demona," the Magus said as he handed the hatchling back to her. "Times were different. Many things have...changed...since our days at Wyvern. I...I do not think I could have ever given voice to how I felt..."

Demona shifted the hatchling until he was nestled in the crook of her left arm, while she reached up and gently placed her right hand against his chest. "You don't have to say another word, Magus," she said. "I understand..."

"Marcus," he said.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Marcus," he repeated. "It is my given name. In all of the years we have known each other, Demona, you never once called me by my given name."

Demona blushed visibly. "To tell the truth, I never gave it much thought. To me, you've always been the Magus. I guess it was always much easier to dislike you if I thought of you as the Archmage's apprentice instead of as a regular human."

"What about now?" he asked.

"Now," she started hesitantly. "Now I cannot think of you as anything except someone who means a great deal to me. You've given me something very precious, and it is something I will never be able to forget." She looked down at the hatchling in her arms.

The Magus stepped closer to look down at the hatchling. "What will you name him?"

Demona looked up. "I...I hadn't given it much thought," she admitted. "Giving things name was always a human tradition that I never truly cared for..." She looked down at the hatchling for a brief second before looking at the Magus. "But I guess it would better to give him a name that he would recognize as his own rather than saying 'You there' all the time." She turned her attention back to the hatchling. "What to name you, little one?" she said. "It should be a special name, one that would represent the joining of our two races."

The Magus thought for a moment. "What about Malcolm?" he asked.

"After Katherine's father?" she asked. "Why?"

"I think it would be appropriate," he said. "Despite what others thought of your clan, he was always the first to speak in defense of your kind. Even when others thought your clan was responsible for Princess Elena's death, he refused to believe them. He knew that your clan would never do anything to harm any who lived in the castle."

"As I recall," Demona said. "Yours was one of those voices who called for our exile from the castle after Elena's death."

"As I said before, I was a different person then," he said. "We both are."

"True enough," she said as she turned her attention back to the hatchling she held in her arms. "Very well, it is decided. You shall from this day forward be known as Malcolm."

The Magus smiled as he placed his hand on her shoulder and gazed down at their son.

_Early Spring_

The Magus paused in his reading to look over at the azure-blue gargess laying on her side on the bed, her eyes closed as she napped, her right arm and wing wrapped slightly around the three-month old hatchling that was their son.

Even after ten years, the Magus was still amazed that the two of them had managed to produce a child together. He had thought it impossible, that two species so dissimilar could ever create anything as miraculous as the tiny being that lay nestled in the security of his mother's wings. But they had, and now they were one step closer to undoing the damage he had done so many years earlier.

The past few years hadn't been easy for either of them. Even though Demona had managed to slay what they hoped had been the last of the Hunters five years ago, deep down he knew that someone would eventually take of the mantle and begin the Hunt again. Just as Prince Duncan had after the death of first Hunter, and the young Prince Canmore after Duncan's death, and his son afterwards...

His attention was drawn back to the azure gargess as she suddenly bolted up in the bed, almost spilling the hatchling onto the floor. With uncanny, catlike reflexes, she reached for her son to arrest his fall, but the Magus was slightly quicker. His hand shot out, an unspoken spell already forming in his mind, and suddenly the child was suspended a mere inch from the floor, held there by a levitation spell.

Demona smiled meekly at the Magus and gently picked up little Malcolm, who was already wailing plaintively at having his nap so rudely disturbed.

"What is it?" he asked, seeing the look of worry already crossing her face as she tried to comfort and quiet the child. He knew already that something had disturbed her, otherwise she would not have awakened so abruptly from her nap.

"Something's wrong," she said. She looked towards the door as a sudden sense of urgency washed over her, an urgency that originated from _outside_ the small cottage they were living in. _But that could only mean..._

The Magus jumped up as the door was thrown open, and a large, heavily dressed human rushed inside. He was already in the process of uttering a spell when Demona called out. "Magus, wait!"

The human looked at the pair of them for a brief moment before reaching up and pulling off the fur hood that covered his head. "Demona," he said, focusing on the gargess. "Praise the gods I've found ye in time!"

"Macbeth, what is it?" she asked as she shifted her grip on the hatchling in her arms. Macbeth's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the hatchling, but he quickly turned his attention back to Demona. "What's wrong?" she asked, but already sensing what he was about to tell her.

"It's the Hunter," he said.

The Magus felt a sick feeling settle in his stomach as he saw the look on Demona's face. The last Hunter had died five years ago, at her hands, but they both knew that this was almost an inevitability. "Where?" she asked.

"The village," Macbeth said. "He's been asking around, seeing if anyone's seen any gargoyles lately." He paused for a moment. "He's been asking about you in particular."

"Why can't he stay dead and buried, damn him!" Demona snarled. She turned her attention to the Magus. "Marcus, take Malcolm and go." She quickly handed the hatchling to the Magus, and then began rushing around the cottage, grabbing items and stuffing them into a pack.

"Go where?" he asked.

"Somewhere. Anywhere. Anywhere but here." She paused for a second. "Go back to Avalon. You and Malcolm will be safe there."

"What about you?" he asked.

"I'll be all right," she said as she finished filling the pack and set it aside. "After I deal with the Hunter, I'll join you there." She then turned her attention to Macbeth. "I have no right to ask this of you, Macbeth..." she started.

"You wish for me to safeguard them," he said.

"Yes," she said. "The Magus knows the way to Avalon, but he will need someone to watch his back and our..." She hesitated for a second. "The child."

Macbeth looked at the hatchling the Magus held. "The child," he said. "He is..."

"He is a gargoyle hatchling," Demona quickly said. "That is all I am willing to say for now."

"Very well," Macbeth said, not willing to press the issue. He already suspected the truth anyway. "I will see that no harm comes to them."

"I have your word?" Demona asked.

"I am a man of my word, Demona," he said. "Ye know that."

"Thank you," she said. She then turned to the Magus. "Marcus..."

"Don't ask me to abandon you, Demona," he said sharply, surprising her. "I won't do that."

"I'm not asking you to, Marcus," she said. She walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "But I can't let this Hunter harm..." She paused for a second. "I won't let him hurt you or this child." She reached up and gently stroked the side of his head with the knuckles of her right hand. "But if I'm worrying about the two of you, something terrible might happen, and that I couldn't bear." She then let her hand fall away.

The Magus quickly reached up and caught her hand. "Just promise me that you'll be careful, and that you'll return to Avalon after you've dealt with this Hunter." he said urgently. "Then I'll be content to leave."

"I will," she said. She then turned her attention to Malcolm. "Watch over him, young one," she said before turning and heading for the door. In an instant, she was gone.

"We had best leave quickly," Macbeth said. "The Hunter will undoubtedly not be satisfied with merely hunting her down. If he hears of this hatchling..." He paused as he noticed that the Magus was staring at the door Demona had left through. "Dinna worry about Demona, Magus," he said. "She's always been a survivor. The Hunter may have tracked her here, but he'll not find her an easy prey to bring to ground. Ye can be certain of that."

"I certainly hope that is true," he said. Grabbing a blanket, he bundled up the squirming young Malcolm as best he could before leaving the cottage. Macbeth picked up the pack and followed him into the night.

Demona soared through the night, heading towards the village, every fiber of her being tensing up as she readied herself for a fight she was not looking towards. _She and the Magus had carved out a simple life together in this quaint countryside, _she thought. _Why did this damnable Hunter have to come and spoil it? _She paused for a brief moment. _How did he manage to track me here?_ The last Hunter she had faced has been dead for five years, and that was in Paris, many miles removed from where she was now. _Could Macbeth..._

_No, _she thought, quickly brushing that thought away. Macbeth had as much reason to hate the Hunter as much as she. There was no way he would ally himself with their common foe. And besides, she had felt the sense of urgency that Macbeth felt just before he burst into the cottage. There really were no secrets between the two of them; given their eternal link, it was nearly impossible. She would have instantly sensed it if Macbeth intended to lure her into a trap. And she had to trust him now; she had entrusted the life of the Magus and their child into his care. It was too late to turn around and head back...

The neighing of a horse below her brought her back to reality. She looked down and saw two riders pass beneath her. _The Hunter,_ she realized, her sharp eyes focusing on the hooded figure on the left carrying a heavy crossbow. The other one she did not recognize, but she knew he had to be working for the Hunter. She watched as they continued on without pausing. Obviously they hadn't seen her, but the way they were travelling, it wouldn't be long before they reach the cottage, and that worried her. She looked back over her shoulder towards the distant cottage. _Macbeth and Marcus should be gone by now, _she thought, but she couldn't afford to let the Hunter and his companion reach the cottage. No matter how careful they had been in the past, the Hunter had always found a clue which put him back on her trail. And the Magus was hardly a young man anymore. The years had not been kind to him, and he was starting to feel his years. The Hunter would have no trouble catching up, unless she slowed him down first. She made a bold decision. Waiting until the Hunter and his companion had passed beneath her, she turned around and dived, coming up behind them. Just as she was about to pass over him, she screeched loudly, startling the riders and their horses, and whacked the Hunter good and proper across the back with her tail, unseating him from his mount. Her surprise attack spooked the horses, and the Hunter's companion was thrown from his mount. They both watched helplessly as the animals took off across the countryside.

Demona smiled to herself as she circled them, watching as they pulled themselves to their feet.

"Filthy beast!" she heard the Hunter curse. "Ye'll pay for that!"

"Only if you can catch me, Hunter," she called back. She paused for only a moment as she watched the Hunter bring the crossbow up and aim it at her, letting him get off one desperate shot before turning in mid-air and heading back the way she came, away from the cottage. The bolt from the crossbow missed her by a wide margin, and she looked back as she saw the Hunter readying another shot.

"Five hundred years and that's the best you Hunters can do?" she taunted. "I've fought drunken Vikings with better aim."

The next bolt was closer. Too close in fact; it tore through her right wing, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her, and the searing pain almost caused Demona to tumble from the sky. But not quite. She quickly regained her wits and began climbing higher, trying to get out of the range of the Hunter's crossbow.

"This isn't over yet, Demon!" she heard him shout as she flew out of range. "I'll shatter you and yuir hellspawn and all yuir filthy kind if it takes another five hundred years! Or a thousand years! Or ten times ten thousand years. The Hunt will never be over until the last gargoyle is dead!"

Demona ignored the Hunter's rants as she put more distance between her and her foe. One thing she couldn't ignore was the damage to her wing, and the odd burning sensation that was beginning to spread from the edges of the tear. After a few minutes, she set down and began examining the damage.

The tear was small and ragged, but not big enough to give her much concern. She'd still need to stay on the ground until it completely healed, but what did concern her was the fact that the healing process was taking longer than it should have. It was a minor injury; given her immortality, it should have started healing almost immediately, but it hadn't. On top of that, the edges of the tear were enflamed, and the burning sensation seemed to be getting worse. She hissed sharply in pain as she gently probed the edges of the tear, and realized what was wrong. _Poison, _she thought ruefully. _Typical. _Previous Hunters had used the same ploy to slow her down in the past, but it was rarely ever effective. Still, until her body completely rid itself of the poison, the tear wouldn't heal properly. She looked back the way the way she had come, knowing that the Hunter would soon be coming after her.

"Well, if you hoped the poison would incapacitate me, Hunter," she said. "You're going to be sorely disappointed." Ignoring the pain and the burning sensation in her wing, Demona dropped to all fours and took off in pursuit of the Hunter.

On a nearby rise, the Archmage smiled as he watched the drama he had set into motion begin to unfold.

Demona frowned as she reached the spot where she had surprised the Hunter and his companion, only to find that the Hunter was no longer there. Off in the distance, she could see the Hunter's companion returning with the horses, but the Hunter himself was nowhere in sight.

_Where..._ she started, but then she got a very sick feeling in her stomach. 'I'll shatter you and yuir hellspawn and all yuir filthy kind...' she remembered him shouting. _Hellspawn? _she wondered. Then it dawned on her. The Hunter wasn't interested in just her. He was also after Malcolm! _No! _she thought as panic filled her. She couldn't let her son come to harm, not when so much was riding on him. It didn't even occur to her that there was no way the Hunter could possibly know about her child. No one in the village even suspected that _she _was in the area, much less her and the Magus' half-breed child. All she knew at that moment was that he was in danger. She quickly took off towards the cottage. Even if the Magus and Macbeth had left immediately after she did, the Hunters had an annoying habit of always being able to pick up on the slightest hint of a trail. And with the nearest body of water several hours away, the Hunter would have no problem catching up with them, especially with the Magus burdened with their son. Demona had to make certain that didn't happen.

By the time Demona caught up with the Hunter, he had already reached the cottage. She listened carefully outside the door while the Hunter ransacked the cottage, obviously angered by the fact that he had missed his quarry, but his anger caused Demona to relax slightly. _At least they got away safely,_ she thought to herself. _That will make dealing with him so much easier. _Flinching as she heard something shattering against the wall of the cottage, she carefully looked inside before boldly announcing her presence.

"Looking for something, Hunter?" she asked coolly.

The Hunter spun to face her, and even from the door, Demona could see the loathing in his eyes. "You!" he snarled in open hatred.

Demona looked around as she entered the cottage. "I usually expect better manners from my houseguests," she said. "But then, what can I expect from an uncivilized lout such as yourself."

Demona's goading elicited the response she was hoping for. The Hunter drew a long-bladed knife and lunged at her, a clumsy move she easily sidestepped. She then brought her clenched fists down on the Hunter's back and sent him crashing to the floor.

"That was pathetic, Hunter," she said as she reached down and flipped him over onto his back. When he saw her standing over him, the Hunter began scrambling backwards towards the door. Not willing to let him escape, Demona rushed forward and grabbed him by his tunic, hauling him to his feet. "I always thought you Hunters were better trained than this," she said as she looked him in the eyes.

"D...d...don't...don't hurt me!" the Hunter stammered, the hatred in his voice and the loathing in his eyes now replaced with open fear, which surprised her. Demona had faced numerous Hunters over the years, but none of them had ever shown any fear of her. _Something is wrong here,_ she thought, frowning. She reached up and pulled off the Hunter's mask.

The instant the mask was off, Demona realized she had the wrong person. His skin was too dark, and his hair was the wrong color. On top of that, his build was too slight. Whoever he was, he wasn't the Hunter.

"Who are you?" she snarled, her eyes blazing blood red.

"He...he made me put on the mask..." the false Hunter said. "He said..."

But before he could finish, an arrow came through the open door, imbedding itself in his back. He let out a surprised cry before sagging in her grip, dead. Demona let the dead man fall to the floor as she took a step towards the door, but then another arrow came sailing in through the door, this one burning bright. It went sailing past her and struck the far wall of the cottage, setting it on fire. Another arrow followed, forcing Demona away from the door to avoid being hit by the deadly projectile, and then another. And another. She risked a glance out the door and saw the Hunter standing several yards away from the cottage, and he wasn't alone. With him were two archers, who were expertly launching burning arrows at the cottage. Demona ducked back as one of the arrows struck the doorframe, and then she looked up as she saw the straw roof beginning to smolder.

"Ye'll not be escaping this night, Demon!" she heard the Hunter shout over the roar of the fire. "Tonight the Hunt ends for you and yuir hellish offspring!"

Demona rushed to the back wall, heading for the window. It was too small for her to climb through, but that wouldn't be a problem for very long. Grabbing a stool, she tossed it at the window, shattering the glass, and then began pulling apart the sill and the stone wall. But before she had a chance to escape, an arrow came flying through the opening, grazing her arm. She jumped back, yelping in surprise and pain, and she grabbed her wounded arm even as she focused on the archers that had taken up position near the rear of the cottage to cut off her escape. They began launching burning arrows through the hole she had made in the rear wall, forcing her to retreat back towards the center of the burning cottage. As smoke began filling the structure, and burning straw began to fall from the roof, Demona realized that the Hunter finally had her trapped.

"You certainly have gotten yourself into a spot of trouble, haven't you, my dear?" she heard a oddly familiar voice say. She turned and spotted someone sitting in a chair by the door.

"Who's there?" she asked, coughing as smoke filled her lungs. "Who are you?"

She could swear she could see the figure smile at her through the smoke, seemingly unaffected by the heat and smoke of the fire. "Surely, you haven't forgotten about me after all this time," he said. She watched as the figure waved his hand, and the smoke parted, revealing a white-haired human she hadn't seen in over five centuries.

"It...it can't be," she gasped. "You're..."

"Dead?" the Archmage said. "Hardly, my dear. Though not for lack on trying on yours and Goliath's part." He stood up and took a step towards her. Demona quickly backed away from him. "I take it you're not too happy to see me," he said.

"After what you did to Prince Malcolm, and the way you treated me when I was still your apprentice," she said. "I'd be foolish to let you anywhere near me."

"Even if I were to offer you a chance to escape from this unfortunate situation?" he asked.

As if to emphasize his statement, a portion of the burning roof finally collapsed, falling on top of Demona, but somehow missing the sorcerer. Demona struggled to pull herself out from underneath the rubble as the Archmage knelt in front of her and offered her his hand. She looked at the proffered hand disdainfully, then crawled out from underneath the debris on her own. "I don't need your help, Archmage," she said. "I can fend for myself."

"Of course you can," he said, smiling as he watched her push herself painfully to her feet. He then watched as she looked from the open door to the hole in the rear wall, weighing her options of escape. _If I can distract the Hunter long enough... _she thought as she tried to put the Archmage's presence in the cottage out of her mind, but he had no intention of being so easily dismissed. "But can you say the same for your son?" he asked.

This brought Demona up short, and she turned to look at him, surprise on her face. "What do you mean?" she asked.

The Archmage smiled at her. "You and the Magus have placed so many hopes on that hatchling," he said. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to him before he could reach his full potential."

Demona snarled dangerously at the Archmage, the fire raging around her no longer on her mind. She took a step towards the Archmage, but stopped when another portion of the roof caved in, blocking her path to the sorcerer. "I will not let you harm my child!" she growled.

"I have no intention on causing him harm," he said, ignoring the flames that licked at his cloak, but failing to ignite the fabric. "That is, of course, dependant on your cooperation."

"I will not be your puppet..." she snarled.

"I'm afraid you have little say in that matter, my dear," he said. "Willingly or unwillingly, you will do as I ask. Otherwise..."

Demona didn't get a chance to hear what he was going to say, because at that moment, an arrow came flying through the hole in the wall and imbedded itself in her back between her shoulder blades. She let out a startled cry and pitched forward onto the floor, dead. The Archmage looked down at her motionless form, a smile crossing his lips. "Well, I guess it's time we take this discussion someplace where we won't be interrupted." Crossing over to where Demona lay, he touched the Phoenix Gate and transported both himself and Demona out of the burning cottage as it finally collapsed in on itself.

Outside, the Hunter watched as the fire consumed the structure.

"Well, that takes care of that," one of the archers with him said.

"It certainly seems that way," he said absently, but he couldn't escape the nagging feeling that somehow, some way, the Demon had eluded him yet again.

_A barge outside the mystical entrance to Avalon_

"Where is he?" the Archmage asked.

"Patience," Luna said. "He will return."

"And when he does," Phoebe said. "He will have with him the key to your ultimate power."

"I certainly hope so," the Archmage said. "I have waited long enough for what is mine by right."

The Sisters shared a knowing glance among themselves. The Archmage's earlier self left a great deal to be desired. He was arrogant, presumptuous and insufferable, but as much as they wanted to put him in his place, they had to let him have his delusions of grandeur. If not for his future self, they would still be stuck in the forms the Magus had trapped them in. But they were willing to put up with his earlier self only for so long before they felt compelled to remind him that they had far more power than he did.

All thoughts of putting the Archmage in his place were set aside as the fires of the Phoenix Gate materialized in their midst's. The flames subsided, leaving behind the future Archmage and an azure-blue gargess lying dead at his feet.

"I thought you were going to bring me something useful," the earlier Archmage complained as he stormed across the deck of the barge. "Not this worthless creature. What possible use can she be to me?"

"A great deal, if you would only shut up and listen," the future Archmage said. He extended his hand over Demona's still form. "Reveal," he said, and a small object appeared from a hidden pouch under her loincloth. It floated upwards, and then drifted over to the Archmage.

"The Phoenix Gate!" he shouted in surprise as he held out his hands to catch it. "She had it all this time?"

"Obviously," the other Archmage said.

The Archmage looked down at the Phoenix Gate in his hands for a moment, then looked at his future self. "But it's broken," he said in disappointment. "It's worthless."

"Only until it becomes reunited with its other half," the future Archmage said. He then gestured to the restored Gate on his chest. "Which, as you can see, is destined to take place."

"Where is the other half?" the Archmage demanded. "I must have it now..."

"Have you learned nothing?" the future Archmage said, berating his earlier self. "Like the Grimorium, the Phoenix Gate must also remain in play until it is time for you to claim it. At any rate, you would not be able to retrieve the missing half at present, as it is currently locked in stone along with Goliath, and won't be released from its stone prison until he is." He reached out, said, "Return," and Demona's half of the Phoenix Gate leapt from the Archmage's hand and returned to the hidden pouch under Demona's loincloth. "When the time comes, she will be the key through which you will gain ultimate power."

The Archmage focused on the arrow imbedded in her back. "How can she be the key when she's dead?" he asked.

"Only for the moment, Archmage," Luna said.

"The spell that restored her youth and strength also eternally linked her life to that of Macbeth, granting them both virtual immortality," Phoebe went on.

"Until one destroys the other," Selene finished. "Then both perish together."

"But until such time as that occurs," the future Archmage said. "Demona will recover from any injury inflicted upon her. Even one such as this. Withdraw." With a wave of his hand, the future Archmage caused the arrow to be pulled violently out of Demona's back. He then opened one side of his cloak and the arrow flew to him, disappearing into the folds of his cloak. The other Archmage watched in rapt fascination as the wound in Demona's back closed up completely, without leaving so much as a scar behind. After several minutes, he heard a soft moan coming from the prostrate gargess, and then Demona began pushing herself to her feet.

"So nice of you to rejoin us, my dear," the future Archmage quipped.

Demona looked up, frowning as she saw the Archmage standing over her, and then paused as she realized she was no longer in the cottage. The Archmage had transported both of them someplace else. Someplace that was oddly familiar... "Where are we?" she asked.

"All in good time," the Archmage said. "For now, all you need concern yourself with is listening to what I have to say."

"I will not be your puppet," Demona snarled.

"I'm afraid you have little choice in the matter, my dear," the Archmage said. "It is well within my power to force you to do my bidding, but that is something I won't do unless you force me to. I would much rather have your willing cooperation."

"That is something you will never have," Demona said. She glanced around, trying to figure out where she was and choose an avenue of escape, when her eyes fell on the three women standing nearby. While she was certain she had never seen them before, they were all oddly familiar. Then she realized who they were. _The Weird Sisters, _she thought. _And that means I must be just outside the mystical entrance to Avalon. _She turned her attention back to the Archmage. "There is nothing you nor these three harpies can say or do that will make me do your bidding."

"You think not?" the Archmage said.

"No," she responded.

"Obstinate beast," the earlier Archmage said, drawing Demona's attention to him. "I knew she would be utterly useless."

Demona's eyes went wide as her eyes fell on the other Archmage, surprised by the fact that there were two of them. But then her mind flew back to a time in the past when she'd had an encounter with herself at Castle Wyvern, years before the Massacre. _He must be the one Goliath and I saw fall into the chasm all those years ago,_ she thought, realizing what was going on. _And his future self saved his life. For all the good it will do him. _Coming to a quick decision, she snarled and charged the earlier Archmage, intending to end his life, and that of his future self.

"Let's have none of that, shall we?" the Archmage said as he watched Demona leap at his earlier self, who was rapidly trying to back away. But just as Demona reached him, the Archmage raised his hand, and a fountain of water came rushing over the side of the barge, knocking her back. Demona tried to push her way through the deluge, but the force of the water held her back, and then it started to push her towards the center of the deck. "Freeze," the Archmage said, and the water holding Demona back suddenly solidified, encasing her body in ice. Smiling, the future Archmage walked over to her as she struggled to free herself. "Did you really think I would be that careless?"

Demona's response was a snarl of outrage.

He smiled at her. "Of course you did," he said. "But in the end, it gained you nothing. And now you have no choice but to listen."

"I will not serve you..." she said, defiantly.

"As I've already said once before, you have little choice in the matter," he said. Then he turned his head and listened to something in the distance. Then he smiled. "Ah, I was wondering when they'd arrive."

Demona started to ask what he was talking about when she heard it; the sound of someone poling a skiff through the water. She watched with trepidation as the mists parted, and a small skiff came into view, carrying the Magus and their son, and Macbeth, who was guiding the skiff through the mists.

"Marcus!" she called out, desperate to warn him.

The Archmage smiled at her. "It is useless to try to warn them," he said, even as Macbeth seemed to pause for a moment. "They can neither see nor hear us. And even if Macbeth can sense that you are nearby, that still would not be enough to help them or you."

Demona watched in horror as the Archmage walked to the edge of the barge and raised his hand towards the skiff. "Thicken," he said, and suddenly Macbeth was unable to push the skiff any further.

"What is wrong?" the Magus asked.

"I dinna know," Macbeth said, grunting with effort as he tried to get the skiff to move. "We seem to be...mired...in something..."

The Archmage turned his attention back to Demona. "I could, of course, leave them like that," he said. "Trapped in the mists for all eternity with no hope of rescue. Starvation is such a slow and lingering death, or so I'm told. Or I could simply capsize their vessel and let them drown. Macbeth, of course, would recover, but I'm not all that certain the same could be said for the Magus. Or your son." He raised his hand, pushed forward with it, and the skiff rocked, almost pitching Macbeth overboard. "Decide quickly," he said, seeing the fear and anguish in her eyes. "The water here is surprisingly deep."

Demona watched as the Archmage magically jostled the skiff again, smiling as he did. "No!" she cried out as Macbeth almost lost his balance a second time. "Leave them alone!" She struggled even harder to free herself, but the ice remained solid. "Let them go and I'll..."

The Archmage smiled knowingly as she hesitated. "Yes?" he asked.

Demona went still in the ice. "Let them go and I'll do as you ask," she said in defeat.

"Excellent," the Archmage said. "I knew you would see things my way." He turned his attention back to the skiff. "Release," he said, and Macbeth discovered that they were no longer trapped. He began poling the skiff away as quickly as possible.

"You're just going to let them get away?" the other Archmage asked in disbelief.

"Macbeth is another pawn in this game whether he knows it or not," the future Archmage said. "And still has a part to play in this drama. The Magus as well. The child..." He paused as he looked at Demona. "Well, let's just think of him as 'added insurance'."

Confused, the Archmage watched as his future self went back to where Demona was trapped.

"I trust we understand each other now," the Archmage said.

"Yes," Demona said.

The Archmage smiled triumphantly. "Excellent. Then it is time for your part in this drama to continue." Motioning for his earlier self to join them, he touched the Phoenix Gate on his chest, and the three of them disappeared in a ball of flame.

_Avalon_

Katherine looked out across the waters, wondering when Demona and the Magus would return. It had been several months since they left Avalon with Tom, and while Tom had returned shortly after parting company with them at Castle Wyvern, she had hoped that they would return equally as quickly. But they hadn't, and Katherine was getting worried.

Tom looked at Katherine with concern, even while the gar-beast Boudicca lay down at her feet. For some time now, Katherine had taken to waiting at the beach for any sign of their friends, and it worried him. Yes, he was also concerned about Demona and the Magus' safety, but he also knew that they would watch out for each other. Both were extremely powerful sorcerers, and Demona was both a gargoyle and an immortal, so whatever uncertainty the outside world held for them, he was certain they could face.

Or could they? He thought back to the last time he had seen Demona, during the confrontation with Macbeth at Castle Wyvern. Macbeth had come dangerously close to ending Demona's life, along with his own, and Demona had almost let him. Was it possible that Macbeth had decided to finish what he had started, ending his centuries-long existence the way he had intended to? Tom knew it was possible, but he doubted it was probable. With Demona gone, the Magus would have returned to Avalon alone, and since he hadn't, Tom felt certain that both he and Demona were safe.

But that still left the question: where were they?

Almost as if she had heard the question, Boudicca suddenly lifted her head and looked towards the water. Getting up, she raced towards the water's edge and started running back and forth, barking wildly. Curious, both Tom and Katherine ran to the water's edge.

"What is it, Boudicca?" Tom asked the gar-beast, realizing as he did that he couldn't very well expect an answer. "What's out there?"

The answer came in the form of a gentle splashing, the sound of someone pushing a skiff along with a pole. They both looked up as the mists parted and a skiff came into view, a familiar figure seated at the front of the vessel.

"Magus, you're back," Katherine said joyfully as Tom ran into the water to pull the skiff towards the shore. Once the craft was beached, she rushed forward to greet her friend. "We were wondering if ye would ever..." But she stopped as the Magus turned to look at her. "Magus, what has happened to you?"

"Time is what has happened, my princess," he said. "Since last I saw you, fifteen years have gone by in the outside world. And unfortunately, those years have been less than kind to me."

"And Demona?" Katherine asked.

"Alive and well when last we saw her," another voice said. Katherine looked passed the Magus to see someone else, a gray-bearded man dressed in a simple tunic, standing in the skiff, the pole held tightly in his hand. "One would imagine that she's decided to lead the Hunter on a merry chase before returning here."

"Who..." she started to ask, but then Tom extended his hand to the newcomer.

"Milord, it is good to see you again," he said.

"And you as well, Guardian," Macbeth said as he stepped off the skiff. As soon as he did, he grasped Tom's extended arm above the wrist and gave it a brief but hearty shake, a warrior's greeting. He then smiled at Tom. "Ye've changed little since last we met," he said.

"Only eight months have passed by since Wyvern," Tom said. "I could say that I'm surprised that ye've changed so little yourself since then, if I did not know that ye and Demona were eternally linked."

"Tom?" Katherine asked, drawing his attention.

"I am sorry, Princess," he said, looking at her. "Milord, this is Princess Katherine of Wyvern," he said to Macbeth. "Princess, this is Lord Macbeth of Moray."

"My lady," Macbeth said, placing his closed right hand over his heart and bowing slightly to her.

Katherine curtsied gracefully before the former Scottish king. "Sire, you honor us with yuir presence. Welcome to Avalon. I only wish we'd known you were coming. We could have prepared to greet you properly..."

Macbeth's smile widened. "There be no need for that," he said. "I've not worn a crown for a great many years, and I truly never cared for all of the fuss that was made for my benefit when I did." He walked over to her and extended his hand. Katherine took his hand and rose to her feet. "Besides, we are cousins after all, so I think we can dispense with the formality for the time being."

"Cousins?" she started, but then she recalled what Demona had told her about Macbeth. He was the son of Findleigh, the high steward of Moray, who was the cousin of her own father Prince Malcolm. She'd visited Moray once, shortly after the death of the Archmage, but that was still years before Macbeth was born. She looked at his face and saw just how much Macbeth resembled his father. She blushed. "I'm sorry, milord," she said. "I'd forgotten that yuir father and mine were cousins."

"'Tis all right," he said with a smile. "Seeing as we two never met, it is easy to forget." He noticed that he still held her hand, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to release it, and Katherine didn't seem inclined to pull it away.

"Will ye be staying, milord?" Katherine asked. "We have so much to talk about."

"Would that I could, my lady," he said, finally releasing her hand. "But I cannot. I only came to safeguard the Magus and the child."

"Child?" Katherine asked in surprise as her eyes shot to the Magus, who was being helped out of the skiff by Tom. She hadn't noticed it before, but the Magus had been holding a small bundle in his arms, out of sight, while Tom beached the skiff. Now she could see it clearly. She quickly went to him. "Magus, what means this?"

The Magus hesitated, wondering how he was going to explain the existence of the child. _His _child, his and Demona's. During the entire flight from the cottage, all of his thoughts had been on Demona, wondering and worrying about her and praying that she would be able to lose the Hunter and join him. He hadn't given a single thought as to how he was going to explain the existence of a half-human, half gargoyle hatchling to Katherine. No one had even thought that the two races could inter-breed. Would she be willing to raise it with the rest of the gargoyles if he told her the truth?

"It is..." he started, hesitating. _What could he tell her? _"A hatchling," he said finally as he opened the swaddling, allowing Katherine her first glimpse of the child. "His name is Malcolm."

"A hatchling?" Katherine asked, confused. '_Hatchling' meant a gargoyle child, _she thought, but where did the Magus get him? She gazed at the child in the Magus' arms and noted that his coloring was very close to that of Demona's, but not quite. And his hair was white, not red. _One of the three that had been sent to the rookery the night before the massacre had white hair, _she remembered. _Does this mean the spell has finally been lifted? Were Goliath and the rest of the gargoyles finally awake? But if they were, then why bring only one hatchling to Avalon? _Katherine had too many questions swimming around in her head, and none of the answers she came up with made sense. "Magus, where did he come from?"

"Demona and I...we..." He hesitated again, still worried about what Katherine would think if he told her the truth. He'd never lied to her; he loved her too much to ever do that, but he didn't want to risk telling her the truth about what he and Demona had done. "We found him...alone...in a cave," he said, trying to keep from looking at her, afraid that she would see in his eyes that he was lying. "We...don't know what happened to his clan."

Katherine reached out to take the hatchling from the Magus, noting as she did that he pulled away slightly before finally surrendering the child to her. _Alone in a cave? _she thought. _Who would do such a thing? _She knew that gargoyles were very protective of their young; she'd never been allowed anywhere near the rookery at Castle Wyvern, and she knew that abandoning a hatchling was unthinkable, especially one so young. _Was it possible that they weren't able to look for the child because they were... _She shuddered at the unthinkable, thinking that she might very well be holding the last survivor of a slaughter. Still, as she turned her attention to the Magus, she could tell there was something about the child he wasn't telling her; he wouldn't meet her gaze. She looked back at the child and noticed the that babe in her arms had five digits on each hand, which she immediately realized was peculiar. None of the gargoyles in her care had that many fingers on their hands, and she couldn't remember any of the gargoyles at the castle having that many either. It made her wonder even more about where the child had come from, and what the Magus wasn't telling her. But she wasn't going to force the issue. The Magus was her friend, and she was certain that whatever he had to tell her, he would when he felt he was ready.

Macbeth watched the exchange with interest, curious as to why the Magus had withheld the truth about the child from Katherine. He himself suspected something of the truth already, that the child was Demona's; that much had been clear since the cottage, but the Magus' refusal to meet Katherine's gaze when she asked where the child had come from seemed to confirm something else he suspected, but didn't think possible. _Did the child really belong to **both **of them? _he wondered. It would explain Demona's remark back at the cottage, the one she had changed in mid-sentence. _She'd almost called the babe 'our child', _he remembered, and the worry he had felt coming from her before she left could only come from someone concerned for the safety of both her child and her child's father. And if that were the case, then he had an additional reason to leave as soon as possible. He didn't want to risk divulging what he knew of the child's possible lineage to Katherine and the Guardian, not until the Magus himself felt it was time to tell them. He approached Katherine and the Magus.

"My lady," he said, bowing his head slightly. "It is time for me to take my leave."

Katherine looked up at Macbeth, surprised. The news about the hatchling had almost made her forget that Macbeth didn't intend to stay. "Must ye, milord?" she asked, hoping she could talk him into staying. "There is so much we have to talk about..."

"I dare not," Macbeth said. "There are things I must see to in the outside world, things that I dare not leave unfinished."

"Can they not wait?" she asked. "Surely you can spare a few hours at least." She looked at Tom for a moment. "Demona has told us much about her time as your advisor, but I would like to hear more. Please? Please say that you will stay for just a little while?"

Macbeth sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win. "Very well," he said. "I never could refuse the request of a lady, especially one so fair. I will stay, but only for a short while. I do not wish to overstay my welcome more than is necessary." He extended his arm and she placed her hand in top of it as they started towards the castle. Tom shared a worried look with the Magus as they fell in step behind the pair.

_Southern France _

The flames of the Phoenix Gate appeared, grew in size and then dispersed, leaving behind three solitary figures on the French countryside.

"Where are we?" Demona asked. She was no longer fully encased in ice; most of it was gone, but enough remained to serve as icy restraints. Her wrists and ankles were bound by frozen shackles, and a block of ice enclosed her body about the waist and arms, pinning her arms to her sides. She should have been able to escape her icy restraints with ease, but she couldn't, and she suspected that the Archmage was responsible.

"This setting doesn't seem familiar to you?" the Archmage asked. "I would think that it would be, considering how much time you and the Magus spent here."

Demona looked around, as much as her restraints allowed her, and she saw what appeared to be the ruins of a small farmhouse not too far away. Then she realized where she was. _He's brought me back to the cottage. But why? _She looked back at the Archmage.

"I've brought you here to give you an idea of what could have happened had I not intervened on your behalf," the Archmage said, already knowing what she was about to ask. "Had I not delivered you from your 'unfortunate predicament', you might very well have perished in that fire. And even though you would have recovered, you still would have been in the hands of the Hunter, a situation I'm certain you would much rather avoid."

Demona couldn't argue with the Archmage on that point. She'd never been captured by the Hunters during the night, and they had never been able to find her while she slept during the day, but there had been some close calls over the years, and she didn't want to think about what they would do to her if they ever managed to take her alive. "And I'm supposed to be grateful that you 'rescued' me?" she asked.

"No, now you listen to what I have to say," he said. "You have already agreed to serve me in exchange for the safe passage of the Magus and you son to Avalon, so now it is time for you to fulfill you part of that bargain. Agreed?"

Demona sighed heavily, knowing there was no way to avoid this. "Agreed," she said somberly.

"Excellent," he said. "Now listen carefully. In 448 years, you will contact a mortal named David Xanatos. He will be the key to releasing Goliath from his stone sleep."

Demona's eyes went wide in surprise, even as the Archmage's earlier self yelped in outrage. _448 years? _she thought. She was immortal, but that didn't mean the years went by any faster for her. _Forty_ years felt like a long time. Four _hundred _and forty would seem like an eternity. But as part of her mind tried to grasp the full measure of how much time was going to pass while she waited for one particular mortal to be born, another part of her mind was planning. _Four hundred and forty eight years of waiting also meant four hundred and forty eight years to prepare. Even if he has the Phoenix Gate, the Archmage can't be everywhere at once. He can't keep an eye on me every second of every day for the next four centuries. _That knowledge gave her an edge she planned to use to the fullest. _But how to begin?_ she wondered. "Is he a sorcerer?" she asked, fixing on the last thing the Archmage had said.

"No, but he will be a person of great power and influence in his century," the Archmage said, smiling inwardly as he realized that Demona was already searching for a way to undo him. _For all the good it will do you, my dear, _he thought. "And it is through him you will also locate and secure for me the Grimorium Arcanorum and the Eye of Odin. Once you have those items and Goliath's half of the Phoenix Gate in your possession, you will bring them to me. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Demona said.

"Excellent," he said. "Then it is time for you to resume your part in this drama." He gestured slightly, and the icy restraints holding her finally started to give way. As she started to free herself of her frozen bonds, the Archmage turned an ear towards the distance. "And were I you, I wouldn't tarry too long in this location," he said. "One never knows who may be in the area." Even as the words rang in her ears, Demona watched as the Archmage reached his hand up to touch the Phoenix Gate.

"Archmage, wait!" she called out. "Where..." But it was too late. The flames of the Phoenix Gate engulfed him and his earlier self, taking them away to who knew where, and leaving her with unanswered questions. How was she going to find this David Xanatos? _Where _was she going to find him? And if he wasn't a sorcerer, then how was he supposed to be able to release Goliath and the others from their stone sleep? Without the counterspell, which Hakon had burned the night of the massacre, the only way to do that was to fulfill the conditions of the spell, which meant raising the castle above the clouds. But, short of taking the castle apart and physically moving it by hand, she couldn't think of any way of doing that without magic. _And the Archmage had said that David Xanatos was not a sorcerer, _she thought. _How was he supposed to... _But as she was trying to solve the puzzle the Archmage had left for her, her ears began to pick out a sound in the distance. The sound of hoofbeats. _Thundering _hoofbeats. And they were getting closer. Which meant that someone was on their way to where she was. And she had a feeling she knew who that someone was, even as she remembered the Archmage's parting words. '_One never knows who may be in the area.'_ But she knew, almost as if she had developed a sixth sense about it.

The Hunt was on again.

_An hour earlier..._

The village was quiet; many of its inhabitants still asleep in the predawn hours, but a few could already be found in several of the village's shops and inns, preparing for the coming day and the promise of new business. It was near one of these that the fires of the Phoenix Gate reappeared. It grew quickly and then dispersed, leaving behind the Archmage and his earlier self.

"Why are we here?" the earlier Archmage snapped, seeing a nearby tavern. "Surely we haven't the time for such meaningless frivolity..."

"We have all the time in the world if we so wish it," his future self said. "But we are not here to indulge ourselves in, as you said, 'meaningless frivolity'." He gestured towards the inn. "We are here to ensure that another player in this drama fulfills the role we have set out for him." He opened his hand, and the Archmage watched as an image appeared, an image of a man. "This man waits within," the future Archmage said. "His name is Robert Canmore, and his family has been pursuing Demona for the past five centuries."

"For what reason?" the Archmage asked.

"Does it truly matter?" his future self responded.

The Archmage thought about it for a moment. "No, I guess not," he said.

"Of course it doesn't matter," the future Archmage said. "All that matters is that with the Hunter on her trail, Demona will be unable to set anything in motion to try to foil our plans."

"But how will she be able to find the Grimorium and the Eye of Odin if this Hunter is pursuing her?" the Archmage asked.

"Oh, she will locate them," his future self said. "Make no mistake about that. But for now, I want to make certain that Demona is kept too busy to try to return to Avalon until the time is right." He held up his hand. "Disguise," he said, then his earlier self found his garments transformed into a priest's robes.

"What have you done?" the Archmage asked. "Why have you altered my appearance?"

"I've done so to give you a measure of credibility," his future self said as he drew the arrow he had withdrawn from Demona's back out of the folds of his cloak. "Humans during this time are as superstitious as they were in our time, and they have a tendency to see demons where none exist. No one would doubt the word of holy man when he tells them he is running from one." He then passed the arrow to his earlier self.

The Archmage smiled as he realized what was expected of him. He was to put the Hunter back on Demona's trail, and in a way, it seemed only fair to do so after all of the trouble she had caused him in the past. He took the arrow from his future self and turned towards the inn.

Robert Canmore sat alone in a corner booth of the inn, picking at the food before him. He had little appetite left; after pursuing the Demon for so long to avenge his brother, only to lose her had left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he didn't feel like eating. The fire he and his men had set had completely engulfed the Demon's lair, but after the flames had died down, there was no sign of her at all. No body, no shattered stone. Nothing. They did find the body of the man he had forced to where his hood in the rubble, a common thief that no one would lose any sleep over now that he was dead, but nothing else. No Demon, even though he had followed her to her lair after her bold attack, and certainly not the unholy hellspawn he had been told she had given birth to. That had been nearly a week ago, and after six nights of fruitless searching, he wondered if he was ever going to find her again...

Suddenly, there was a hard pounding on the door, and the innkeeper went to open it. As soon as he drew back the bolt, the door was pushed open, and a white-bearded man in a priest's robes rushed into the inn, clutching an arrow in his fist. "Please, you have to help me," he said frantically to the innkeeper. "I need shelter."

"Shelter from what?" the innkeeper asked.

"A demon," he said. " A terrible, horrible demon."

Hearing the word 'demon' caused the Hunter to look up from his plate of half-eaten food. He caught sight of the man the innkeeper was talking to and his eyes went wide in recognition. _Was it he? _he wondered. _The one who had told him about the Demon and her hellspawn? _The old priest begging for help from the innkeeper looked very much like the same man who had approached him several weeks ago in Paris with information about the Demon, but that person had had a much shorter beard, and he'd projected an aura of self-confidence. This frail-looking priest couldn't be the same person, even though the resemblance was uncanny. But his interest was piqued. He quickly got up from his chair and started to approach the pair.

"It was probably only a rogue gargoyle," the innkeeper said.

"No, this was no gargoyle," the Archmage said. "It was a demon, I tell you. No gargoyle could have done the things I saw."

"What did you see?" the Hunter asked.

The Archmage turned to give his full attention to the Hunter. "She appeared as if spawned by the foulest magic," he said. "Emerging from a ball of unholy hellfire. When I saw it, I became so frightened..."

_She,_ the Hunter thought. _Could it mean..._ "Where did this happen?" he asked.

The Archmage smiled inwardly, knowing he had hooked the Hunter. "A short distance from here," he said, pointing in the direction of the ruined cottage. He then turned and clutched at the Hunter's tunic. "Please, you must protect me. I am an innocent..."

The Hunter saw the arrow in the Archmage's hand and pulled it from his fingers. "Where did you get this?"

"From the demon," he said. "She threw it at me. And then she said, 'Tell the Hunter he will need more than mere arrows to stop me and mine.' And then she flew away, laughing."

The Hunter frowned in anger. _Taunt me all you want, Demon,_ he thought angrily. _But I will be the one who will be laughing over the shattered remains of you and you hellspawn. _He looked at the arrow and recognized it as one of his own. And then he noticed the fresh blood on the tip. _Her blood? _he wondered. Had he managed to hit her through the flames at the cottage? But the blood looked very fresh, and the cottage had burned six days ago. _Another taunt? _he wondered. _Are you using your own blood to bait me? It will be your own undoing, Demon. _He turned his attention back to the Archmage. "You will be safe here, good Father," he said. He then pulled a coin from his purse and handed it to the innkeeper. "See to his comfort. I will return after I have settled with this 'demon'."

The Archmage smiled in feigned gratitude. "Oh thank you, good sir. Thank you. May God go with you on your noble quest."

The Archmage's blessing caused the Hunter to hesitate as he started for the door. It almost sounded insincere, but he forced it out of his mind. He had more important things to think of.

The Archmage waited until the Hunter had left on his mission before following the innkeeper upstairs to one of the rooms. Once inside, he locked the door and waited.

It wasn't long before the flames of the Phoenix Gate appeared.

"Now we get ready for the endgame," the future Archmage said.

_Now..._

Demona snarled as another bolt from the Hunter's crossbow sailed passed her. At a full gallop, he had a hard time drawing a bead on her while she was in the air, but her advantage was cut by the fact that the air currents weren't being very cooperative and she couldn't seem to gain enough altitude to get out of the range of the Hunter's weapon.

When she'd realized that the Hunter was alone, she debated the idea of standing her ground and facing him, one-on-one, and eliminating the threat he posed to herself and her child, but then she saw that the night sky was beginning to brighten; dawn was coming, and she couldn't afford to be caught out in the open. So she took the only rational course left to her.

She ran.

But the Hunter refused to give up the chase, and she couldn't shake him. Worse still, she knew that dawn was fast aproaching, and if she didn't set down soon, she was going to be caught in the air when the sun rose, and she seriously doubted that her immortality would prevent her stone form from being shattered when she plummeted out of the sky. And even if she managed to lose the Hunter before the sun rose, in this part of France, there was naught but open countryside, with very few areas for her to hide during the day. For the past few years, it hadn't mattered to her; she'd had the relative security of cottage and the Magus to safeguard her during the day, but now she berated herself for not having looked for an alternate place to hide just in case.

Another bolt sailed passed her; this one was so close she felt the fletching on the shaft graze her ear as it flew past, and she was so startled by how close it was that she almost panicked. She looked back, seeing the Hunter readying for another shot, and she decided that she'd had enough. She wasn't going to be able to lose the Hunter before dawn, not this time, but she was going to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. As the Hunter brought up his crossbow, she decided to end the chase.

The Hunter fired his weapon. But even as he did, Demona suddenly turned in mid-air and caught the bolt, and then threw it back at him as she dived out of the air, screeching. Her cry startled his mount, and the Hunter tried desperately to hang on as the horse reared up in terror. Then Demona did something that the Hunter couldn't stop; she dived under his horse, spooking the animal even more, and as she went under the animal, her talons flashed out and severed the strap holding his saddle in place. Her gambit almost worked; there was no way the Hunter could avoid being thrown from the horse, but as he fell, he came down right on top of her. They went down together in a heap, and as luck would have it, the Hunter ended up on top of her, pinning her to the ground. For a brief second, she actually thought she saw him smile behind his mask, believing that he was about to succeed. And she knew he had. The sky continued to brighten; she had run out of time.

But then Fate intervened. Just as he drew his dagger to finish her, a crimson blur flew out of nowhere and barreled into him, knocking him off of her. The two tumbled a short distance away, but only one got up. A gargoyle. A gargoyle that was oddly familiar...

Demona lay on the ground, stunned by the sudden appearance of the brick-red gargoyle who stood over the Hunter's unconscious form. The new gargoyle knelt down to examine the Hunter for a brief moment before standing up and turning his attention towards her. He quickly walked over and held out his hand.

"Come with me if you want to live," he said.

Demona was so surprised by the brick-red sudden gargoyle's appearance that she didn't even protest when he took her by the hand and leapt into the air, leading her across the sky towards the coming dawn. When she saw the sky continue to brighten, she tried to pull her hand free.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "The sun..."

"Trust me," he said, keeping a tight grip on her hand.

Demona threw him a worried look, then looked back over her shoulder. The Hunter had been left far behind. It would be a while before he regained consciousness, but if the sun rose before they could find a place to set down and hide, it wouldn't matter when he recovered. They would shatter on the ground below when they turned to stone and fell from the sky, and that was something she doubted even she would survive. She felt the gargoyle's hand tighten around hers and she turned her head forward, then gasped as she saw the disk of the sun begin to peek over the horizon. She threw her free arm across her eyes and waited for oblivion to overtake her.

Several tense moments later, she opened her eyes, wondering why she hadn't turned to stone. She discovered that she was no longer over the French countryside; she and the brick-red gargoyle had been transported someplace else.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"That's kinda hard to explain," he said.

Demona pulled her hand free from his. "Try," she said. "Starting with who you are."

"I think you already know the answer to that question," he said.

"You look like one of the Trio," she said. "But that's not possible. He and what remains of my clan are still trapped by the Magus' spell..."

"I know," he said. "But from where I'm standing, that spell was broken a long time ago."

"How?" she asked.

Brooklyn hesitated for a moment, wondering what he could tell her. He knew that neither one of them could change what was going to happen, but how much of that resulted from what he told her was another matter. "There's a human," he said. "His name is David Xanatos."

Demona frowned immediately as she recognized the name the Archmage had told her. "You're in league with the Archmage," she snarled.

"No," Brooklyn said, holding up his hands as Demona advanced on him. "Demona, wait..."

With a scream of rage, Demona launched herself at Brooklyn, intending to rip his heart from his chest. But as she did, Brooklyn reached up and caught her wrists. He then fell backwards, pulling Demona down with him, and planted his foot against her stomach, using her own momentum to throw her forward over him. She landed hard on her back, momentarily stunned by the impact, but she recovered quickly and leapt to her feet, still intent on ripping the red gargoyle to pieces. But Brooklyn was ready for her. Just as she reached him, he dropped to the ground, sticking one foot out to trip her while bringing the other foot up to catch her across the back of her calf, bringing her down and knocking the wind out of her. Before she could recover, he jumped onto her back and put his arms in front of hers, then locking his hands together behind her neck in a Full Nelson. He then began pulling back to keep the pressure on her arms, preventing her from gaining any leverage that would allow her to escape. Demona was a superb fighter, one of the best he'd ever known, but in the 16th Century, she knew absolutely nothing about professional wrestling, and it gave him a distinct advantage over her. Still, he could only hold her like this for so long. She was immortal, after all. He wasn't.

"God damn it, Demona!" he snapped as Demona continued to struggle. "Would you just chill for a minute and listen to me? I'm not working for the Archmage, I swear."

Demona stopped struggling for just a moment, surprised by his words, particularly by how odd some of them were. "Why should I believe you?" she asked.

"Because, quite frankly, I could very easily put you under from where I am right now," he said. "But once you wake up, we'd be right back where we started, and to be perfectly honest, I don't have time for that crap." He unlocked his fingers and broke the hold, and then quickly jumped away from Demona. As she started to get to her feet, he cautiously approached her. "Besides, I know that deep down, you want to believe me."

"I'd be more than willing to believe you if you were to offer me some sort of proof," she said, trying to work the soreness out of her shoulders.

"Fair enough," he said. Reaching into the pouch on his belt, he presented his proof.

Demona's eyes went wide as he held out what was unmistakably the Phoenix Gate, whole once again. He offered it to her, and she took it to examine it more closely while removing her half of the Gate from the pouch under her loincloth. Comparing the two, she could tell that the restored Gate Brooklyn had obviously seen better days. It was pitted and cracked and the gold had lost much of its luster, but there was no denying that what she held was in fact the Phoenix Gate. The hairline crack that ran down the center of the talisman perfectly matched the broken edge of the piece she held. As she looked at the Phoenix Gate, she examined the possibility that this was all a ploy of the Archmage, that the gargoyle was indeed in league with him and had given him the Phoenix Gate in order to trick her, but she quickly dismissed that possibility. _No, _she thought. _He'd never willingly surrender the Gate, not for a moment. The Gate held too much power for him to trust it to someone else. Which meant that... _She looked up at Brooklyn. "How did you get this?" she asked pointedly, hoping that he would confirm what she was now beginning to hope.

"How do you think?" he responded.

Demona frowned. "That's not much of an answer," she said.

"That's as much of an answer as I'm allowed to give you," he said. "Sorry."

Somehow, she knew he was going to say that, but it seemed to confirm her suspicions. _He has the Gate because the Archmage is dead. Not now, but at some point in the future. _And that brought a glimmer of hope to her heart. "How did it happen?" she asked pointedly.

"I wish I could tell you," Brooklyn said.

"If you want me to trust you..." she started, but then Brooklyn held up his hand.

"It's not that I don't want to," he said. "I just can't because I don't know. Goliath didn't go into details about what happened on Avalon."

"Goliath?" Demona gasped.

"Yeah," he said. "Goliath. I don't know, maybe he got the Archmage wet or dropped a house on him or something. He never told us what went down." When he saw the look of confusion on Demona's face, he smiled. "A little joke. You'll get it one of these days, I promise." Then he turned serious. "Listen, Demona. There's some things I need to tell you, and I seriously doubt you're going to like what you're going to hear."

Demona crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm not liking it already," she said. "But you might as well go on."

Brooklyn took a deep breath and let it out. "You're going to have to do everything the Archmage tells you to do," he said.

"WHAT?" she cried out in anger. "Are you mad? I have absolutely no intention of being his puppet..."

"If you want to beat him, you're going to have to," Brooklyn said. "It's the only way." He paused when he saw the fury still turning her eyes blood-red. "Look, Demona. I don't like it any more than you do. The Archmage made all our lives a living hell, both in the past and in the future, but the only way to beat him is to give him what he wants. You have to trust me on this."

Demona wasn't about to relax, not after what Brooklyn had told her. It just doesn't make sense, she told herself. It was suicide to give the Archmage what he desired. He would gain ultimate power over all, become virtually unstoppable. Unbeatable. But then, there was this gargoyle, an older version of one of the Trio, and a testament to the fact that the Archmage had been stopped. Had been beaten. The restored Phoenix Gate she held in her hand was proof of that. "Very well," she said as she handed it back to him. "I will trust you. For now. But I'm going to require more on your part if you expect to win my complete trust."

"All right," Brooklyn said as he put the Phoenix Gate back into the pouch on his belt. "What do you need?"

"Information," she said. "Tell me about this 'David Xanatos' I'm supposed to meet. Where can I find him? And how does he awaken the clan?"

"You don't want much, do you?" he said. "All right. You do know about the conditions of the spell the Magus used on us, right?"

"Yes," she said. "The spell can only be broken when the castle rises above the clouds."

"Well, Xanatos makes that happen," he said.

"But how?" Demona asked. "The Archmage said that Xanatos was no sorcerer. And the only other way I can think of to break the spell would be to physically move the entire castle. Even an army would need years to accomplish that feat."

"Well, you're half right," he said.

"And you're starting to irritate me," she said dangerously.

"Okay, I guess I'm just going to have to tell you flat out," Brooklyn said. "The world goes through a lot of changes over the next few centuries. You got the Industrial Revolution, mass production, the Digital Age. The whole works."

"The...what?"

"The short of it is," Brooklyn quickly continued. "A lot of people make a fortune on all the neat stuff that gets invented, and a few of them get so rich that they start their own companies. Xanatos is one of those guys."

"And he has the castle moved?"

"Yeah. Lock, stock and gargoyle. He has the whole works moved to an island called Manhattan, which is in the New World." Brooklyn paused for a moment. "You do know about that, right?"

"Yes," she said.

"Well, when Xanatos gets the castle moved," he continued. "He puts the whole thing up on top of a building he has built specifically to break the spell. And the rest, as they say, is history."

_So that's how the clan is reawakened, _she thought, realizing that her goal was in sight. She needed only to wait until Xanatos was born to set things in motion and she would be reunited with her beloved Goliath. But there were still some things she needed to know. "How does he find out about the spell?" she asked.

"He told us that he read all about the spell and how to break it in the Grimorium," Brooklyn said. "But the truth is that you're the one who tells him about us."

Now she had something else to consider. From what she had just heard, it sounded as if Xanatos had lied to the clan, and that concerned her. "Can I trust him?" she asked.

"Oh, hell no!" Brooklyn said. Then he paused. "Well, you can trust him to a point, but beyond that I wouldn't turn my back on him."

That did worry her, and she wondered if he meant that Xanatos was as bad as the Archmage. Or even worse. And how was she going to be able to help defeat the Archmage if her only human ally might be plotting against her as well. "Is there anyone I can trust?" she asked in desperation.

"Yeah, there is someone," he said. "There's a woman. A cop by profession. Her name's Elisa Maza. She works for the NYPD."

"NY..." Demona asked, confused.

"New York Police Department," Brooklyn said. "Guardians, like Tom. They protect the citizens of New York. And she's one of the best there is. She also plays a big part in bringing the Archmage down."

"So she knows about us," Demona said.

"Yeah," Brooklyn said. "She finds out about us the same night the spell is broken, and it's a hell of a shock for her, but she ends up becoming one of the closest friends we have in the New World. And she puts both her career and her life on the line lots of times just to keep us and the rest of the city safe."

Demona mulled that over in her mind. _Elisa Maza, _she thought. A human she could trust, and from what Brooklyn said, someone who's dedicated their life to protecting others. And if there was one, maybe there were others. "Is there anyone else?" she asked.

"There's a few," Brooklyn said. "People you'll meet later on, but Elisa's the one you have to watch out for. And I can't emphasize that enough."

His tone caught her attention. "What do you mean?"

"I can't go into specifics," he said. "But I meant it when I said she's put her life on the line for us. It's important that she stays alive, because like I said, she plays a big part in bringing down the Archmage. The first few months after we wake up are critical."

"Why, what happens?" she asked.

"I...I can't tell you," he said, forcing himself to hold back the information. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't tell her about _that _night, the night they almost lost Elisa because of one moment of carelessness... "It's something you have to find out about on your own."

Demona wanted very much to press him for more information, but then his attention was drawn towards the pouch on his belt. "Oh, crap," he said. He then turned his attention back to Demona. "Listen, Demona," he said urgently as he quickly approached her. "There's something else I need to tell you, but we don't have a lot of time. The Archmage is going to force you to do some things you're not going to want to do, but it's important that you do, even though it means getting the rest of us pissed off at you. You can't avoid it. Just remember that everything turns out okay for you in the end."

"What?" she asked. "What things? What does he force me to do?" But then the flames of the Phoenix Gate enveloped them, and they were gone.

_Castle Wyvern_

_Scotland_

Demona looked up at Goliath, still asleep in his centuries-long slumber. The Phoenix Gate had deposited her here and then vanished, taking the brick-red gargoyle with it, and leaving her with several unanswered questions and an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. _He said that everything was going to turn out for the best, _she thought, looking at the stone figure of the gargoyle. _So why is it I get the feeling things are just going to get worse?_ "I only hope that you're right and I'm wrong, young one," she said, laying her hand on Brooklyn's stone arm. "Because if you're mistaken, then none of us are going to survive." Looking up at Goliath one last time, she spread her wings and took off across the Scottish night.

Up on the tower, unseen by Demona, a lone figure watched her depart. Titania smiled for a moment and then disappeared from sight.

_To be continued in **Chapter Three: Xanatos**_


End file.
